Firebird
by dieofthatroar
Summary: When a bloodied and broken Draco Malfoy is dumped on the doorstep of the Order, Hermione knows it will change the course of the war. "The evil isn't just in the power of the Dark Lord. It's in the mundane lives of those chasing the carrot dangling in front of them." Dramione warfic
1. Prologue: Albatross

**Prologue: Albatross **

All he could feel was white blinding pain. Thoughts stopped. Time stopped. It was just him and and the echoes of screams he guessed he were his, but couldn't be sure. They were too far away, he was too far away. He could no longer locate his throat.

The pain stopped as suddenly as it had begun, and his mind slowly found its way back to the cold stone floor his body lay on. There were voices above him, angry and spiteful. On some level he deserved it.

_I do not regret anything._ He repeated slowly to himself. A mantra to keep sane. He lifted his head as much as he could manage to see the bottoms of the dark cloaks surrounding him. _I am not a coward._ It was all he could do now that he was sure he would die. The last stand of his betrayal. They would not break him after all this time.

"Come now dear nephew, do try a bit harder. I would like to see your pretty eyes when I curse you again. Now, _tell us what you know!_" Bellatrix Lestrange's heels clicked as she stepped toward him. It took all his effort to raise his head to meet her gaze, while keeping his eyes as cold and defiant as he could manage. It was as close to a 'no' as he could get, as he was unsure of if his voice would obey his thoughts.

It seemed like the message got through. Bellatrix raised her wand as his vision began to swim, and he was forced to return his head to the ground.

"You stupid boy" she said, with perhaps a hint of disappointment. He didn't hear the next curse that was thrown at him, but knew immediately it was not another Crucio. The pain was almost as great, but concentrated now in his abdomen - a hot slashing feeling, like his insides were being ripped apart. He knew well enough that Bellatrix's curses did real damage, he would not be dying with an easy Avada Kedavra. He coughed and the light stone was stained red with his blood. No… this would be a much bloodier death. _I do not regret anything._

"Ease up Bellatrix, a dead man won't tell us anything." He recognized the voice as his father's. A dead man, it was almost amusing. Like he was some sort of common criminal instead of his own flesh and blood. _I won't tell you anything anyway, so you might as well kill me now_.

"Feeling pity for your sorry excuse for a son?" She retorted.

"Hardly," he answered. "But you are getting blood all over our floors, and I hate for that to be all for naught." Bellatrix turned back and motioned to a couple cloaked figures beside her.

"Get him up, get him up," she commanded, and the two figures moved. "He'll talk. They all do."

_I do not regret anything._

He felt two strong pairs of hands lift him from the stone. The movement sent another wave of agony through his body, and he couldn't stop the groan of pain that escaped his lips. They jerked him into a standing position where he teetered unsteadily on his feet. As the two positioned him against the wall, he found the eyes of his father on the outer circle around him. The blond hair stood out starkly against the black of his clothes. Hair that many said looked so much like his own. Lucius shifted uneasily and looked away. _I am not a coward._ He repeated in his head.

One pair of hands let go and moved away, and he struggled to find his balance again. The second pair lingered for a moment longer to steady him, but before they left, he felt the weight of a couple small objects land in his robe pocket. Confused, he tried to look to his side, but stopped when the vertigo hit hard and he had to grasp for the wall to anchor him.

"It will activate in 15 seconds," came the whisper to his left. So soft and so fast he wasn't sure if he heard it at all. He could hear an implied _so don't die yet_ in the intensity of the words, and he immediately knew whose words they were. The hands moved away and joined the crowd, so he was again standing alone.

_It,_ he thought, trying to keep upright while processing the words. _Activate…?_ Thoughts were slow and like fog. He reached out and tried to understand, but they slipped away like they were never there. He only had a few seconds until something happened, but it took all his power to just stay on his feet.

Bellatrix raised her wand again, and her heels clicked as she approached him. Another gruff voice spoke, "Tell us-"

But then it clicked. His mind had caught up with the instruction, and he understood how he could live. That he could live at all. He smirked and stuffed his hand into his pocket and found a small circular object, rough around the edges. He couldn't tell what it was, but it didn't really matter. He clutched it in his fist and the world started to spin and dissolve. He could just make out the angry screams of his aunt, and frantic footsteps of the other Death Eaters before silence and his feet hit a wooden floor. He could no longer stand, but he no longer had to. He blacked out.


	2. Chapter 1: Swallow

**Chapter 1: Swallow **

Hermione was enjoying a little peace after the storm. The quiet of the house helped her racing mind find a little solace. The soft ticks of the clock on the mantle were her only company as she slowly stirred the sugar into her cup of tea and looked over the Prophet.

After escaping from Malfoy manor, Harry and Ron had stayed at Shell Cottage while she followed Lupin back to Grimmauld Place where he was staying with Tonks and their newborn Teddy. Harry and Ron had wanted to run directly to Gringotts without a plan, but Hermione had disagreed. The argument that resulted became a bit too heated, and Hermione just needed to get out.

She sighed and turned the page as she took a sip of the steaming tea. She winced at the heat, and set it down on the table again to let it cool.

She had a bad feeling about what would happen if they went looking for the horcrux without all the information. It was a dangerous mission, and they had almost no plan. She needed to do more research, but the boys wouldn't leave her alone.

Harry couldn't seem to understand that courage alone is not enough to take down Voldemort. Dobby's death had affected him, and he couldn't stand the thought of sitting still. He would talk to her at every moment he could find and explain how guilty he felt, and how important it was they act quickly. She tried to comfort him the best she could, while still staying strong in her conviction that he was making hasty decisions. She quickly became short tempered in her replies, and eventually stormed out spitting words like "immature" and "selfish" before locking her door and barring anyone from entering for a full day.

Looking back, the nightmares were most likely the culprit of her unusual lack of emotional control. She had hardly slept at all in those days at the cottage.

Ron caused her to snap in a completely different way. Whenever he was with her, it was like he was walking on eggshells. He asked her if she was doing ok, and if he could get her another cup of tea, and if she needed help. It was sweet, and he really did care, but she couldn't stand feeling any more helpless than she already did. Ron started acting possessive, and Hermione had had enough. She needed to deal with what happened to her on her own terms, without someone treating her like a child. She had even less patience to deal with whatever romantic feelings they may or may not share, and told him so in no uncertain terms. He saw that as hope for something in the future, but even if they both made it out of this, Hermione just couldn't see that happening. She didn't have the heart to tell him that much yet.

When Lupin said he was heading to Grimmauld Place, she immediately asked to join him. She had been here for only a couple days, and there was only so much that tea could do to calm her nerves, but the time away was doing her good. She loved her boys, but if they wanted to live, they needed to be a little smarter in how they went forward. Bill had promised he wouldn't let them do anything rash until Hermione had contacted them with details, and so until then, she was back in her element - in the library doing her research.

Lupin stepped into the kitchen, and Hermione looked up from her paper. "Good morning," she said, and he and nodded in greeting.

"Teddy is sleeping soundly finally," Lupin said, looking through the cupboards for something to eat. "Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can." He found an apple near the back, and turned it over before taking a bite. He smiled and shuffled over to the table.

"Teddy is really no trouble," Hermione replied. "He is such a sweet kid."

"I've been meaning to thank you for all the help you've been-"

"No, no, I've hardly done anything." Hermione cut him off. "I wish I could do more."

"Well, Dora thanks you too." He said, mouth half full of fruit. "Anything interesting?" He said, gesturing to the paper.

Hermione looked over the open page. "I guess I wasn't really reading it," she realized. Hermione took another sip of her quickly cooling tea. She played with the handle and swirled the dark liquid around. She opened her mouth to begin talking but Lupin cut her off.

"It will be alright, don't beat yourself up about it" he insisted. "Harry and Ron know you're right, they just have trouble sitting still. You can trust them to be careful for now."

"I know, but I don't have all the answers. All the books and time in the world can't prepare us for what's coming. Sometimes I feel like I'm just waiting for the worst. I'm sitting here playing strategist while Voldemort is killing more and more of us." Hermione put her cup down with a little too much force, and some tea splashed on the paper. "I can't save anybody by reading… maybe I should have listened to Harry's plan."

Lupin shook his head, "No, I felt like rushing into things was a bad idea as well. I think-"

Suddenly there was a loud _POP_ and and crash from the hallway. Hermione and Lupin turned toward the door, suddenly on high alert.

"Wand out," he whispered, and stepped silently toward the door. His hand didn't shake, but Hermione noticed her's was. Lupin listened for a moment, ear hovering close to the dark wooden grain, before swinging it open. As he strode into the dark hall, his expression turned from to one of alarm rather than fear. "Merlin…"

Hermione followed him out of the doorway and saw a crumpled figure in the middle of the hall. She couldn't tell if they were breathing, but she did notice the slowly growing pool of blood on the hallway floor. A list of friends connected with the war started flashing through her mind as she ran up to help.

"Stop!" Lupin warned, and held her back. "I don't know of anyone who was out on any missions, and we don't know who this is yet. We have to keep cautious."

"I know but, look they're dying." Hermione insisted, pulling them closer to the victim. Her heart was thumping so strongly in her breast it was painful. "We have to help now." Lupin hesitated, but silently agreed. He kept his wand out, pointed at the unmoving figure while Hermione stepped closer and pulled the cloak covering the figure's face back. She gasped and let go, taking a half-step back.

"It's… It's Draco Malfoy."

Lupin approached him, wand still at the ready. "It doesn't look like he is any threat to us now," he said, after quickly checking for unfriendly spells. "We should treat him while we try to understand how he was sent here. If anything we can get some information from him." He paused as he noticed Hermione was handling something small in her hand. "What is that?"

"He was holding it," she answered. "I think this is how he got here - it looks like Snape's portkey." She handed Lupin the object. It was a seal of some type, intricately carved with runes along each facet. They both recognized it as belonging to Snape, who was revealed by Dumbledore to be a spy for the Order before the Death Eaters entered Hogwarts last year. Although it took some time to convince Harry of the professor's allegiances, he had eventually earned their trust and was an invaluable resource to their cause.

Hermione had seen Snape use this Portkey before, as he could not apparate in and out of Malfoy Manor or Hogwarts. Snape had a habit of playing with it in his fingers as he reported to the Order, as if he he needed to remind himself that he could return to Voldemort's side in a moment's notice if needed.

"He won't survive much more blood loss," Lupin said, studying the rest of Draco's body. "We need to get him upstairs and start healing him." He carefully picked him up in his arms, and started heading up the stairs. Hermione started to follow before eying a small silvery vial lying where Draco's body just was. She picked it up and wiped off the blood to get a better look.

"Memories…" she realized. She ran up the stairs to the room she knew Lupin must have taken Draco. She stopped abruptly at the door as she took in what she saw. Lupin had stripped Draco of his outer cloak, and the damage was more apparent. The blood had soaked through his clothes, and his skin was so much paler than she thought was possible.

"You studied some healing, right?" Lupin asked, hands already stained red. Hermione nodded weakly. "I think it is mostly internal damage, so we need to start with that. Go get the potions you need from my room, and explain to Dora what is happening. Quickly!"

"Y-yes sir" she said, and turned on her heel.

She carried four bottles back to the room, three from Lupin's stores, and one she kept in her travel bag. She had to magically force them down Draco's throat before focusing on healing the gashes down his chest. Her hands were stained red in minutes.

Hermione and Lupin worked side by side for a couple hours, until they found Draco to be somewhat stable. His breathing had steadied, and even unconscious his features seemed to relax slightly. A little bit of color came back to his cheeks, and he looked almost peaceful. Hermione sighed with relief. His forehead was still beaded with sweat from a fever he was running, but at the moment it was in control. Whether or not he was still her enemy, she didn't know, but she would blame herself if he had died in her hands. Like this, in the bed like he was only asleep, it was the most open she had ever seen him. She watched him simply breathe in and out for several more minutes before she heard a noise from behind her.

"Why is he here?" A question came from the door. Tonks stood holding a lightly fussing Teddy. Hermione remembered the vial she had brought up to the room.

"He had memories with him," she explained as she fetched them from the shelf she had hastily placed them. "I'm not sure if they are Snape's or his, but we should look at these before he wakes up."

Lupin nodded. "I'll look with you. We can use my pensieve." He turned to Tonks. "I have given Mr. Malfoy some dreamless sleep. You wouldn't mind watching him for now?" Tonks agreed, and Hermione thanked her as she followed Lupin out of the room.

Hermione watched Lupin pour the contents of the vial into the pensieve in his room. The memories swirled and separated, something Hermione had never seen before. The eddies of liquid followed two distinct paths, one on each side of the large basin.

"Interesting," Lupin said. "They must be from two different people. Snape and Malfoy I presume, however its unusual to store them in this way."

"Why is that, sir?" Hermione asked, watching the memories dance and swim.

"They're not usually compatible in one vessel," Lupin explained. "Snape must have asked for explicit permission from Malfoy. In this case he must have known what they were to be used for. It is at least some indication of where Malfoy's loyalty lies."

Hermione was still unsure. Schoolyard taunts and cold sneers were all she could remember of Draco, and she found it hard to imagine a situation in which he would defy the heritage he seemed so proud of. The skull on Draco's forearm she studied when she healed him indicated these loyalties, but thinking of Snape, she knew that an ugly tattoo was not all a man could be.

"Stop trying to guess," Lupin said, studying her expression. "We can see for ourselves now." With that, he dove into the pensieve. Hermione nodded, and followed close behind.

* * *

The world ghosted into existence around them, forming a familiar stark room with a singular occupant. Hermione unconsciously fingered the still healing scar on her arm in a nervous motion. She recognized this as Malfoy Manor.

Severus Snape paced the room - this must be his memory - then proceeded down a hallway and up the stairs.

"He started the memory here on purpose," Lupin observed, pointing at the portraits of Malfoy ancestors staring down at them from the walls. "Snape is telling us where Voldemort's headquarters are. But since you had figured that out for yourselves when you were captured, this must have been a memory from before that time." As he kept up the pace with the memory Snape, he looked around at the rooms that passed by. "No indication of a date though, so it's hard to tell how long ago this was."

Memory Snape paused outside a room and muttered a spell at the door before entering. A startled noise came from within, and Hermione and Lupin hurried in after to see what was inside.

"What are you doing in here!?" an angry Draco cried, stepping in front of the desk at which he was working.

"I could ask you the same question," Snape retorted, and wordlessly locked the door and put a silencing charm on the room with a flick of his wand. "Do you know how careless you've been?" He said in an angry half-whisper, despite the charm on the room.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco replied, standing his ground. Snape huffed, and pushed him to the side, grabbing some papers from the desk. He shoved them in Draco's face.

"The Dark Lord knows someone is giving out information," Snape drawled, and Hermione gasped. "Be happy you aren't in any high circles. He can't exactly narrow down where the leak is coming from when its all basic intelligence that all followers know."

Hermione knew about the letters that the Order had been receiving from an anonymous source. They had been quite useful when avoiding major attacks and preventing some revels, but the information didn't go much into the details of Voldemort's plans. Until of course, the last cryptic message she received that had solidified her stance against charging into Gringotts. _The vault no longer holds it_ it had read. No explanation, but she had known what it meant. She couldn't risk the mission if the horcrux wasn't going to be there.

_Draco_ was the source? How was that even possible? They had been receiving information since their sixth year, while Draco was still at school as well.

Memory Draco froze and opened his mouth as if trying to find words, but nothing came out. Snape kept speaking.

"Luckily for you, you are not the only spy for the Order. If I wasn't the one who had found you out, you would be dead by morning." He picked up a few papers that had tumbled to the floor, and handed them forcefully back to Draco. "But what you _are_ is a risk to me. And to my entire operation. Because I am in no position to stop you, for whatever reasons you do this are your own, I am going to help you." Draco opened his mouth to protest, but Snape was quicker. "No arguments. You are a liability on your own and you will do more good with me by your side. You need more training in Occlumency, and I can give you more information that I cannot pass on myself. I will also be your insurance if you have to be taken in by the Order."

"Why?" Draco finally spoke. "I hardly think the Order will welcome a Death Eater into their compound or wherever with open arms. I am not exactly friends with them. I knew what life I was choosing when I betrayed the Dark Lord, and I've come to terms with that. I don't need your help."

"Stop acting like a child. I'm not only here to protect you, I need to make sure the Order has the information they need to defeat the Dark Lord. I can do that best if you cooperate." He took a breath, and his dark eyes softened a fraction. "Why _did _you choose this path?" It was half accusatory, but there was also a sadness in the question. Like he was afraid to learn the truth.

Draco turned his answer over in his mouth before answering slowly, "My father is a coward. I am choosing not to be."

Snape seemed to process the answer for a moment before nodding and heading toward the door. "You will wait to consult me before acting like an imbecile. We will start lessons tomorrow," he ordered. With his hand hovering over the door handle he turned back to Draco, who had been staring at his un-owled letters. "And…" he started, like it pained him to speak. "I am… proud of you Draco." Snape left too quickly for them to see what Draco's reaction would be, taking long strides down the hall. The world dissolved into smoke around the two observers.

Hermione and Lupin exited the Pensieve and turned to one another.

"You don't look that surprised," Hermione noted. Lupin shook his head.

"I couldn't be sure, I had him as a student many years ago, but I thought I recognized the handwriting on those letters. I needed more proof to really know it was him."

"I guess that was your proof. I just can't believe he had done that by himself, for all that time." Although chronologically, it started to make sense in Hermione's mind. The first letter - the one that made the Order pay attention to the legitimacy of the informant - was the one detailing the attack of the Death Eaters on Hogwarts the day Dumbledore died. The very attack that Draco had orchestrated. He had attempted to sabotage his own creation. "I just can't think of why. He never seemed to care for our cause."

Lupin glanced back into the pensieve. "He can tell us himself soon," he said. "Through his memories, or through his own mouth. For now though, we must check on him. We know whose side he is working for, and it is our job to keep him safe."

Hermione agreed, and walked back to the guest room behind Lupin, lost in thought.

* * *

A/N: The story is done, and I'm just editing now, so expect quick updates!


	3. Chapter 2: Magpie

A/N: I told you there would be quick updates! Happy 4th of July for anyone in the US, and hope you're not sweating your balls off like I am right now.

**Chapter 2: Magpie**

Hermione took over watching over Draco to let Tonks and Lupin spend time with Teddy. She brought a large, old book on the Dark Arts over to a corner table to read, occasionally pursing her lips before jotting down some notes. Every few minutes she would raise her head and look over the sleeping figure for any changes, before returning to the yellowing script. This went on for several hours, until the next time she raised her head she met silvery grey eyes looking back at her.

"Malfoy!" She jumped slightly, dropping her quill. "You're awake!" She dropped her book and rushed over to his side to inspect him, much to the discomfort of her patient. "How do you feel? Does anything hurt? Do you need anything?"

Draco's eyes widened and he shifted away from her imploring hands. He answered with a raspy voice, "Woah, slow down Granger. What are you doing?" She looked back at him with concerned eyes.

"Lupin and I found you when you took the Portkey here. We treated all the wounds we could find, but now that you're awake we can help you some more." She began to lift the covers off Draco's body, but he pushed her hand away.

"Stop playing bloody Mediwitch for a moment will you? Are you going to tell me where I am?"

"Oh, right." Hermione said, taking a step back. "You are at one of the Order's safehouses. We are here with Lupin and Tonks, and their newborn. We are the only ones that know you are here at the moment; you've only arrived this morning. The house is protected by the Fidelius charm, but Snape is one of the secret keepers, and that is how you were let in. You were in pretty bad shape when you arrived, so you're going to have to stay here until its safe for you to move around." She hardly took a breath during her whole explanation, so huffed a little when she finished. Draco nodded slowly, casting his eyes around the small guest room. Suddenly, he whipped his head back to Hermione with a panicked expression.

"Gringotts," he exclaimed. "You didn't try to go did you? I know Potter wouldn't have turned down that opportunity to get himself killed, but there is nothing there anymore. Bella moved the Horcrux after she thought you've been in the vault. It would have been a trap, it-" he doubled over and started coughing into his palm. The coughing subsided after a few seconds, but Hermione didn't miss the scarlet blood left in Draco's palm. She tried to reach over to take his hand, but he pulled away quickly, staring at her with narrowed eyes.

"No," she said retracting her hand, trying to comfort him with her words instead. "I convinced them not to go. I might have anyway, but your message helped make that decision." Draco relaxed and put his head back down on the pillow. _Your message_… the thought echoed in his head. _So they know that much at least._

Hermione looked back down at his bloodied hand. "What curses were used on you? We couldn't repair all the damage because we had no idea what caused it. If you know, we might be able to treat this faster."

Draco let out a slow cynical laugh and let his head fall back on his pillow. "Aunt Bella takes pride in her ability to curse a man to insanity. Many of the spells of her own devising." He shifted to look back at Hermione. "In other words, I have no idea. I haven't even seen the ones she used on me before. Maybe she invented them just for me. She enjoyed watching me suffer."

Hermione looked slightly sick before turning to the table to start arranging the bottles of potions. "Well, at this point they aren't life threatening. But you will have to stay in bed for at least a few days." Draco nodded in acknowledgment of her words. He hated feeling useless, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to make it across the room right now if he tried. All he wanted to do was let sleep pull him back under.

Hermione stood up and headed toward the door. "I'm going to fetch you some water and potions you need to take." Draco could hear her footsteps stop at the entrance, and he forced his head up to look at her.

"Granger? You look like you want to say something."

"You… You seem -" she stopped and then started again. "Why did you do it?"

"Why do _you_ do it?" He retorted with a little spite, indicating with his hand around the room. Hermione flinched like she was stung, and started to turn to leave. He quickly realized his mistake and dropped his hand, mumbling an apology.

"You've seen Snape's memory then?" He asked. She nodded. "But not mine?" She shook her head. Draco sighed, his eyes feeling heavy. "Look at those first, then talk to me." He turned over and pulled the blankets over him to add finality to his statement. Hermione stared at his back for a moment, before heading down the stairs. She would tell Lupin of the updates in Draco's condition, and perhaps she could take some time to explore Draco's memories.

* * *

Hermione gripped the sides of the basin and stared into the swirling silver liquid, hesitating before reentering the Pensieve. Lupin stepped behind her, and lightly touched her shoulder, giving her a small reassuring smile. She took a deep breath, braced her self, and dove back into the memories.

They found themselves again in Malfoy Manor, this time following a much younger Draco through the halls of his home. He must have been about seven years old, younger than Hermione had ever seen him in life. They entered the dining room together, where Narcissa Malfoy was waiting for her son.

"Come, dear," she called to him. "Dobby will be bringing the dinner up shortly."

"Where father?" the young Draco asked, climbing on to his chair.

"He has very important business to attend to," she replied. "He won't be back for another week or so."

Draco looked a bit dejected, but when his face brightened again, his smile was so full of innocence that Hermione almost forgot who she was watching. "I'll be a great wizard like father one day," he proclaimed. "He will teach me everything he knows, and I will be top of my class at Hogwarts!" He waved his fork around like a wand, hexing invisible opponents around the table.

"Draco put that down, and behave like the young man you are," Narcissa scolded. Draco obeyed without fuss and sat back down. He turned to his mother.

"I want to be just like father. He told me that when I go to school, all the kids will know that I'm a Malfoy, and that I'm important. He said everyone will like me."

Narcissa gave her son a sad smile. But by then, the food had appeared on the table, and Draco was busy filling his plate to notice.

"Not everyone you meet at school will be like you, dear."

"You mean pureblood?"

"Yes. That and other reasons."

"Father said that was why we were more important. We are pureblood and the others aren't as good." He chewed some of his food, and reached for his pumpkin juice. "Are mudbloods really that different?"

"Draco, that term isn't polite. Please do not use it," Narcissa corrected.

"But father says-"

"You father is a very important man, Draco. But you can't listen to everything he says. You have a lot to learn before you can be like him."

"He will teach me everything! He said so."

"Yes," Narcissa said quietly, almost to herself. Draco was again too involved in his dinner to pay her much attention. "I'm afraid you're right."

The scene swam and dissolved, and was replaced by a similar room. This Draco, however, was older. Hermione guessed about third or fourth year.

Draco entered a sitting room where Lucius was pacing. "You sent for me, father?"

"Ah Draco, come here." He motioned him forward, and gave him a hard look before continuing. "I've heard you've been struggling in some of your classes."

Draco was taken aback. "I am first in potions," he explained carefully, not willing to anger his father. "Second in my class in three others. I don't know where you heard-"

"Second to whom, Draco? To that mudblood? That is failure, Draco." He pointed his wand at his son. Draco flinched. He knew his father was not afraid to use it on his own blood. "Not even close to the top in Charms, and don't get me started on Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Charms is a joke, you said so yourself. And in Defence Against the Dark Arts Potter is just getting special treatment, so it really isn't my fault."

"Don't talk to me about Potter," Lucius spat, before returning his face to a calm mask. Hermione recognized it as the same expression Draco wore during much of school. "I have a gift for you Draco," he said in a smooth, cold voice. Draco looked warily up at his father, unsure of what he meant.

"Do I deserve such a gift?" Draco asked cautiously.

Lucius sneered. "Deserve? You don't deserve anything. I am giving you an opportunity to taste true power. You will join me in a Revel tonight. A small one even you cannot screw up, just a few muggles by the edge of the city." Draco looked alarmed. In all his breeding and preparation for such a time to walk with his father, he didn't know how to react once it came. "Perhaps you will be inspired to do better in your studies, hm? We will leave immediately."

Lucius held his arm out for a side-along Apparition, and Draco hesitantly took it. Hermione and Lupin looked about as they followed the pair to an east London neighborhood.

"I remember these attacks," Lupin said to Hermione. "There were a few attacks on muggles before the Quidditch World Cup. The Death Eater activity was growing in frequency until Voldemort returned that year. I think these were the parents of a muggleborn." The two watched as about six cloaked Death Eaters gathered around a house at the end of the street, all with their hoods raised. Lucius warded the area and they entered the house.

The screams started immediately, and Hermione's heart stopped. All she could think about were her parents, somewhere in Australia. She did everything she did so this wouldn't happen to them.

She fingered the wand in her pocket, barely recognizing the twitch in her arm, and Lupin took her hand. "It isn't happening now," he told her. "There is nothing we can do."

Draco didn't look much better than Hermione felt. He stood at the back of the crowd, watching in horror as his father tortured the husband and wife.

"Draco!" Lucius barked back at him, "Time to prove yourself." Draco didn't immediately move from his spot. Everything about his demeanor screamed that he would rather be anywhere but here. His fear of his father eventually outweighed his discomfort and he stepped toward the front of the circle. He pointed his wand at the two cowering figures, hand shaking.

"Do it Draco"

"_C-crucio"_ Draco stuttered. Nothing happened. He locked eyes with the couple on the floor, wand still shaking. He watched the tears flowing from the wife's eyes as her husband blocked her from his aim. He tried again, "_Crucio!"_ he said louder. Again, no response from the muggles.

"Move aside!" he was shoved in the arm by one of the Death Eaters. "I knew he was a coward. Spoiled him a little too much Lucius?"

"That is none of your concern, Nott," Lucius growled back. He pointed his wand at the muggles in Draco's place. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Draco looked away as the green light flashed. There was silence followed by a sick laughter from the circle. "It is done." Draco followed his father out of the house, and watched the green skull rise into the sky. After they watched the other Death Eaters Disapparate from the yard, Lucius turned on his son.

"You are a disgrace!" He spat. "You embarrassed not only yourself, but your entire family. Do you understand? Do you understand how we got to where we are now? How to keep this position? No, you have no idea. You are just a selfish child."

"Father-"

"NO! _CRUCIO!"_ Draco crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry. "I don't want to see your face until I know you can serve your family. If you can't cast the curse, you _will_ feel them yourself." With that, he turned and Disapparated.

Draco regained his breath and got up slowly. He glanced back up at the Dark Mark floating above him, before throwing up in the hedges.

The scene changed again, and they found themselves in a relatively empty Hogwarts corridor. Hermione recognized the familiar image of Draco marching down the hall with Crabbe and Goyle flanking him on either side. He was in a conversation with Blaise Zabini, talking about a potions assignment they had due the following week. Hermione then saw her memory self round the corner, nose in a book, hurrying to another class. She raised her head and greeted Blaise, who nodded in response.

"What are you looking at mudblood?" Draco snapped, sneering at the memory Hermione. Crabbe and Goyle laughed their slow, stupid laughs. She simply rolled her eyes, and kept on her path past the boys. Hermione didn't remember this particular event herself, as it was quite common in those school days. She was civil with Blaise during their later Hogwarts years, as they had worked together in some potions and runes assignments. She respected his talents and work ethic, and he didn't seem to mind her blood status. Draco, however, had never stopped tormenting her.

Visitor Hermione and Lupin followed Draco and the other Slytherins down the corridor toward, the dungeons. After they entered the Slytherin common room, the boys slumped down into chairs near the fire, and Draco started work on a parchment. By the looks of it, nothing sinister. A simple essay for one of their many classes. After a few minutes, Crabbe and Goyle wandered off clearly bored of the silent studying.

"She isn't that bad, once you get to know her," Blaise whispered to Draco, clearly referring to their brief encounter with Hermione. The comment was completely ignored. Blaise kept his eyes on Draco, studying him for another minute. "I don't know why you keep up that act."

That made Draco lift his eyes and stare dangerously at Blaise in warning. He still said nothing. They continued their work, but Blaise continued to steal glances at the blonde.

Draco finally dropped his quill. Without picking up his wand, he cast a silencing spell around the two of them, and turned to Blaise. "What is it!? Your expression is starting to make me sick, you obviously want to say something."

Blaise looked around, and noted the lack of reaction of the nearby students to Draco's outburst. "Wow… Aunt Bella's been teaching you well hasn't she."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Draco responded with venom in his voice. "And don't look around like an idiot. They can still see you if they can't hear. Don't attract attention to yourself."

"Not exactly what you've been doing lately. You seem to have been going out of your way to play the loyal son of a Death Eater. What is it? Daddy's not living up to the Dark Lord's high hopes, so you have to do it yourself? I'm not convinced your heart is in it though." Draco looked like he wanted to rip Blaise's head off his shoulders, but the other boy knew they were still in a crowded common room and he wouldn't dare do any damage.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Draco repeated slowly.

"I know Crabbe and Goyle's parents are involved with all that as well. You have to keep up pretenses everywhere your father or the Dark Lord has eyes, I get that. But you aren't stupid like they are. Anyone can see that those insults you throw at Potter and his gang aren't exactly Shakespeare sonnets."

"I genuinely don't like Potter," Draco muttered as a weak response.

"I don't doubt your dislike of the Wonder Boy, but even you can't find much fault in Granger." Draco scoffed in response. Blaise ignored him and continued. "It's getting embarrassing for you. Either put your heart into it, or defect. Stop playing this halfway game - it's going to get you killed."

Draco ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Merlin, you really don't get it do you? Not playing this game is going to get me killed. Not just me, my whole family…" Draco looked uneasy and paused his thought. Blaise understood what he was thinking.

"You know you can trust me, just talk. Who would I tell anyway?"

Draco laughed humorlessly. "You have the fortune of having parents that are out of the picture, you can easily choose not to be recruited. Me? I never had a choice in joining, so you think defecting is even possible? With my father locked away, and my mother a glorified hostage, what else can I do? I am too far into this to go back now. I'd be killed on the spot." Blaise noticed Draco's hands were shaking as he reached over to pick up his quill again.

"It isn't a spell that's going to kill you, Draco. Not if you keep doing this to yourself."

"Fuck Blaise, stop acting like some concerned mother hen. Even a Hufflepuff wouldn't stand you right now."

"Whatever, mate. Damned if you do, damned if you don't. You have to choose a side eventually." He looked over to where Crabbe and Goyle had started ogling at some fourth year girls. Blaise's face twisted in disgust. "Listen, even if I do sound like a bloody Hufflepuff, I'm going to say it anyway. You are brilliant, unlike those thugs you keep yourself surrounded by. Don't let that intelligence go to waste. Do something you want to do with it. I don't mean something high and mighty or _good_. But something you want. Hell, play wizard chess with me once and a while, yeah? I've been dying for some decent competition. Just... don't get lost in anyone's shadow. If you're going to choose a path. Be brilliant at it, and fuck all else."

"Easy for you to say," was all Draco could manage to get out.

"Fine. Drown your sorrows in your work and firewhisky. But you can do that by yourself." Draco watched Blaise stand and gather his things, then stride to the boy's dorms. Alone in front of the fire once again, he cast a _Finite_ with a lazy flick of his hand and went back to his parchment. His eyes skimmed the page, but Hermione could tell he wasn't truly reading the script. It took him a few minutes to give up, and put the parchment down. He looked to either side of him to check for nearby students. None looked remotely interested in the boy at the fireplace.

Draco pulled out a small object - a photograph - from the inside pocket of his cloak. Hermione leaned over to make out what it was of: Narcissa, and a smiling Draco. Even younger than the boy they had encountered in the first memory. Narcissa held the small Draco close in her arms before he wiggled free and ran about the frame of the photo. Narcissa laughed and stood to catch the smiling boy and return him to his spot on her lap. Hermione realized that this photo in a memory was the only time he had seen Draco truly happy. Not that she ever really cared enough to think of her tormentor's happiness through their long history. But all she could recall were images of amusement on Draco's face, or a smirk full of malice, but never this light happiness. Perhaps she had assumed he wasn't even capable. And maybe, she guessed from the tattered and folded edges of this photograph, Draco had to be reminded of this happiness' existence as well. After some minutes of staring at the moving image, Draco turned the photo over and took out his quill again.

_I have made my choice_ he wrote in small, neat script on the back. _No regrets._

He placed the photo back in his pocket, and the scene faded away.

Hermione and Lupin found themselves back in Malfoy manor. Draco was facing Bellatrix and breathing heavily.

"You can do better, Draco!" She cackled, clearly enjoying whatever form of a training session he was enduring. "The Dark Lord won't be pleased if you fail him yet again… now fight!" She pointed her wand at Draco and wordlessly threw several hexes at him. He responded quickly and wordlessly, shielding himself from most of the onslaught while firing a few spells back. However, soon Bellatrix increased her speed and intensity, and Draco was overwhelmed.

"_Protego!"_ he shouted to escape being hit by the last of his aunt's attack.

"NO! Not good enough," Bellatrix shouted. She pointed lifted her wand again. "_Silencio._ Now you don't have the temptation. Go again!"

Draco lasted a little longer in this round, but was caught by jinx directly in the chest. He was blown back several meters and hit the ground hard. It took him some seconds to get back on his feet, and by then Bellatrix had descended on him.

"You're WEAK!" She shrieked. "It's pathetic. _Crucio!_" Draco's eyes widened, but he was still under the spell, and no sound came from his lips as he dropped to the floor once again.

"No, Bella, you're hurting him! Please, stop," Narcissa pleaded. She had been watching the training from the far side of the room.

"Of course it hurts sister dearest, it is supposed to. It is just like training a dog. If it hurts enough, it will learn not to do it wrong." Bellatrix took a few steps toward Narcissa. "But… if you have problems with my methods, I could teach you something myself," she said as she redirected her wand at her sister. Narcissa stood her ground, and Bellatrix scoffed, "you are both pathetic. _Cruc-_"

Before she could finish her curse, she was blasted off her feet, her wand ripped from her fingers. Draco stood, silencing charm broken.

"Don't you DARE touch my mother," he bellowed as he took his place in front of Narcissa.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," Bellatrix cooed. "It looks like this training _is_ paying off. Maybe Cissy should join more of our sessions." Something akin to a growl escaped from Draco's throat.

"Don't take it out on her that the Dark Lord picked Rodolphus over you to accompany him on this mission." Draco spat.

"Ignorant little boy!" She shot another hex at the two, but Draco easily countered it. "I am the Dark Lord's most faithful servant. He trusts ME above all others!" Another hex, another counter. "It was I who informed the Dark Lord of the wealth of the Lestrange family. I _ordered _my husband to serve the Dark Lord in this way. Do not speak of things you do not know." She turned and stormed from the room, leaving Draco alone with his mother.

"Draco, be careful what you say to Bella," Narcissa whispered to her son. "She wouldn't have hurt me-"

"She was," Draco said angrily. He took a breath and set his features once again. "Sorry, mother. But I know what I am doing." He kissed her cheek and set off down the corridor.

They followed the same route that they took when following Snape in that first memory. They were heading to Draco's room. Once inside, he locked and warded the room before taking out a dark metal box from a drawer.

"It is a safekeep box," Lupin commented to Hermione. "They are pretty rare, although an old family like the Malfoys would most likely own a few. They only open to the owner's hand. They can't be broken into through spells or by force, and anyone tries the contents are destroyed."

"Isn't that pretty suspicious then?" Hermione asked.

"Well, like I said the Malfoys would have already owned these. Draco was probably already using it for years for more innocuous documents, and no one would have thought it out of place."

They watched Draco take an old notebook out of the box. It was already almost full, with what seemed to be dates and small entries from what Hermione could see while Draco flipped to the first blank page. He wrote a short entry, before closing it again. He then reached in the box and took out a photo. The same one that they had just seen a memory ago. He set it down on the desk and looked through his drawers for a blank parchment, one the size of a letter. After he had his parchment, ink, and quill finally all set up, he paused. He gazed at the photo sitting on his desk one more time before picking up his quill. The world faded around them as Draco started writing.

Hermione and Lupin arrived back at Grimmauld place. Hermione turned to her former teacher.

"He was trying to get information from Bellatrix?" Hermione asked.

"That is what I assume, yes. We did get a letter describing the location of a few Lestrange safehouses. I think Draco was writing that note in the memory."

"Did anything come of it?"

"Unfortunately, no. There was one house that looked like people had been there recently, but we didn't find anything indicating they would be back. The only good we got out of it was the capture of a Snatcher that was wandering around the grounds. He wasn't the brightest though, and we couldn't get any useful information out of him."

"If he had to get that sort of information from Bellatrix, he must not have been told much himself." Hermione thought aloud.

"No," Lupin agreed. "He would have had to be a much more active participant in Death Eater activity if he wanted to be trusted with any information. If he wasn't like Bellatrix and actively volunteering for the slaughter, he didn't get much opportunity to prove his worth. Voldemort most likely thought of him as a convenient pawn." Hermione shuddered. She didn't know what she would have done if she were in such a position.

"You should go talk to him," Lupin continued. "He needs to wake up to take his potions soon anyway. You can bring them up. I'll talk to Dora and figure out where we go from here." Hermione nodded, and headed toward the potions stock. After measuring out the correct amounts, she slowly climbed the stairs.

She realized she was nervous. It was easier before, when she thought she knew who Draco was. Now, it was like she was going to talk with a stranger.


	4. Chapter 3: Sparrow

**Chapter 3: Sparrow**

Hermione found Draco sitting up in his bed, reading the book she had left on the bedside table she was looking over before. He still looked unbelievably pale, dark circles rimmed his eyes and his breathing was slightly labored. However, although Hermione couldn't tell if her opinion only came from seeing those memories, she saw a glint of sly intelligence that remained in his grey eyes. Even with his sickness.

"You're awake," she commented, setting the potions down.

"This book is bloody terrible," Draco drawled. "Who ever this…" he turned to the cover page in search of the author. "Victoria Spurnpike is, she needs to check her sources. You shouldn't waste your time on this."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? I thought her book on charms theory was quite informative."

"She may know her charms, but this version of the dark arts is like a fairytale book. She seriously underestimates her audience, and I'm pretty sure some of these spells she writes about have been proven to be fake." He points to the page he has open on his lap. "Like this one for example. She actually thinks you can immobilize a dragon with that incantation? Straight out of a Beedle the Bard, I'm telling you."

Hermione starts giggling, and Draco looks at her like she's grown a second head.

"What is so funny?"

"You," she said. "I have no idea who you are anymore. I keep expecting you to call me an ugly bookworm, or tell me to get out of your face. But you're talking about… children's stories."

"Well, if you're going to go and laugh at me, then maybe I _will_ tell you to get out of my face." He responded with only half-hearted spite.

"Sorry, sorry." She indicated to the book. "I know it isn't that great, but we don't exactly have the widest selection to choose from. It had the most straightforward title so I picked it up first." Draco shut the book and eyed the title: _On the Dark Arts_.

"Clearly. Well, luckily you're stuck with me. I can take a look at the library and show you what you actually should be reading."

"I would like that," Hermione said. She almost thought she saw a smile forming on Draco's lips before he doubled over into a coughing fit that shook his body.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I came up here to give you your potions," she said, quickly uncapping the first bottle. She waited until Draco's coughs had silenced before handing it to him. He eyed it with suspicion, taking in the dull purple color, and large hairy lumps floating on the top.

"It doesn't taste as bad as it looks," she insisted. "And it is the best stuff we've got." He fingered the smooth glass of the bottle for a moment, examining the contents before closing his eyes and knocking back the potion.

He gagged, and nearly spit it out immediately. "Not as bad?" He exclaimed, after he successfully swallowed. "Liar."

"Well," Hermione said sheepishly. "I've actually never had that one, so I didn't actually know. Sorry… The rest are truthfully not that bad though, please trust me."

"You've got to earn that trust, crazy witch," Draco replied, but drank the second potion that was handed to him.

"Better?" Hermione asked.

"Just like pumpkin juice." Draco drank the rest of the potions, and settled back into a comfortable sitting position. "Do you know how much longer I'll be useless for?" he sighed, looking at Hermione as she cleaned up the bottles.

"You're not useless. I can bring you up some books that we can go over together-"

"When can I walk, Granger," Draco interrupted, ignoring her comments.

"I'm not sure. You have a concussion, so you'll be sleeping a lot for the next couple of days. As for your other injuries, I can't say for sure. The potions are helping, but we are going to have to take it day by day." He looked down, taking in the information, and concern spread across her face. He was just like her boys, unable to sit still for even a moment.

"Here, I'll be right back," she said, taking the book and the empty bottles, and sweeping out the door. She was indeed back within ten minutes, with about six books in her arms. She piled them on the table, and climbed onto the edge of the bed. Draco hesitated, unsure of this new situation, but moved his feet to the side to accommodate her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"We're doing research!" she said with excitement. He couldn't tell how much of it was to encourage him, and how much was just genuine Hermione bookishness. "How much do you know about the Horcruxes?"

He was a bit taken aback by her forwardness. He had never had such an open conversation about these topics, and after years of self-imposed secrecy he didn't know how well he would handle it. "Well, not much to be honest." He started slowly. "I had overheard a few comments between Aunt Bella and the Dark Lord. There were enough books on dark magic in the manor - real books, not your fairy tale nonsense - that I could understand what they meant. Still, there wasn't that much information past just what Horcruxes _were_ in those books, and of course I couldn't get more information from Bella or the other followers. All I know about the Dark Lord's is that he made more than one, and that one was hidden in Bella's vault in Gringotts."

"Six," Hermione said. Draco didn't understand.

"What?"

"Voldemort made six Horcruxes, that we know of. Three have been destroyed. We have been searching for the others."

"Right…" Draco said, turning the information over in his head. "Is it fucked up I don't find that surprising? In any case, that Horcrux won't be in the vault anymore, I know for sure. After you escaped from the manor, Bella was furious and immediately left to her vaults. She moved it somewhere else, and maybe if I know a bit more about Horcruxes in general, I can figure out where." He looked over Hermione's arm as she reached out for a book. The scars that crisscrossed her skin writing _mudblood_ were still red and new. He reached out, but with his hand half-raised he couldn't figure out what he was reaching out for. To comfort her? To know what those marks felt like under his fingers? He put down his hand.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't do anything," he said. Hermione saw the hesitation in his movements, and knew what he was referencing. Her eyes traced the scar, then Draco's face.

"You've gone through worse," she replied.

"I'm not looking for pity, Granger. I know you aren't either." He was silent a moment before he continued. "But I just watched it. I know exactly what Bella is capable of, and I had to watch that happen. If you didn't figure out how to escape, you would have died that day."

"If you had done something, you might be dead too. Also, you didn't identify us. Which I count as something."

"It wasn't the most heroic of plans, I admit. And I was found out anyway. I just wish I could have done more."

"How _were_ you caught?" Hermione asked. "Your memories obviously stopped before then."

"That note on the Horcrux," he said simply.

She remembered how short and simple it had been, like it was written in a hurry. "Why was it different?"

"I knew it was important, so both you and the Dark Lord would be acting fast. I had to warn you before Potter and Weasley did something stupid. But then again, I was just as stupid and hasty, I did everything Snape had warned me against. I couldn't ward my room like I usually do, and I had to find an owl myself instead of sneaking the notes through other's posts. I made myself too obvious."

"You didn't ward your room?"

"No wand," Draco replied, putting both his palms up to show his empty hands, as if to prove the point. "Maybe another of my stupid mistakes, but Potter looked like he needed it more than I did."

"He said he forced it from you," she said, remembering the conversation they had with Ollivander at the cottage. "That if he had won it from you, it had changed allegiances."

"I had to make it look like enough of a struggle. Couldn't exactly wrap it up with a bow and offer to him could I? But I did purposely give it to him, so I don't know what that says about my wand's allegiance." He looked from Hermione, to the wand that she had beside her on the bed. "So he still has it then?"

"Yeah," Hermione said. "His snapped while we were on the run. But they also have a few snatcher wands with them so I'm sure you can get yours back. Harry's been using yours because he said it was more pliable, and easier to get to work for him."

"Are you saying I'm easy, Granger?" Draco said with a dry tone. Hermione looked at him with wide eyes, then burst into laughter.

"No!" She said between giggles. "Do you want your wand back or not? Harry is in another safe house. He can easily come over here if we let him know."

"I would rather not talk to him yet, if I can help it. Despite my alliance with the Order, it has little to do with any loyalty I have to the Chosen One. Its not like I'm in serious need of my wand yet," He picked at the edge of the bedsheet, folding it over his fingers, then turned to Hermione who to his surprise looked slightly relieved. "And my guess is you don't want to talk to him yet either… did something happen to the Golden Trio?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Hermione said curtly. She handed him a book, and dove into another one of her choosing. Draco conceded and started to read. "So, what happened after they found you out?" Hermione ventured after a few minutes, passing another volume between her hands.

"I don't want to talk about it," Draco retorted, turning the page of his own book without looking up. "This one has some decent information on higher level concealment charms. Even if they don't use them, we might be able to." He handed her the book, finger in a page so she could find the chapter easily.

_We_. Hermione noticed his choice of words. This teamwork seemed easier than she had thought it would be.

"Thank you, Draco," she said, taking the book from his hands.

He tilted his head at his name. "I'm Draco now?"

"Well, Malfoy is someone I used to hate. Somehow I don't feel comfortable using that name to describe you now."

"I'm sorry for being a prat in school, but I really am the same person. And in my defense, you are as much of a hardheaded bookworm as I said you were."

"I'll consider that a compliment. Now, you have to call me Hermione."

He liked the sound of that. A bit of comfort after being thrown into this new situation. "See, pushy aren't you. You prove my point… Hermione." She smiled, and Draco hid his face in a book so she wouldn't see his lips curling at the corners too.

* * *

"Hermione… I can't read this bloody thing anymore," Draco said angrily, pushing the book to the side. He could tell the cloth covering used to be bright red, but it was faded and worn from repeated readings.

"Careful! That one's rare," Hermione scolded, picking it up. "I know it isn't exactly the most fascinating read, but I still think it's important."

"Nothing Punnet says in there is worth my time," Draco sneered.

Hermione turned the book over in her hands. "You haven't even read past 1100 AC, how do you even know if it is worth your time?"

"The way he writes. Dull, reductionist… I've read it all before anyway."

"You've read this already?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Ah, and you thought I did well in school because I was born bloody brilliant?" Draco let out a sardonic chuckle. "I think you never really understood why I found you so frustrating at Hogwarts. It wasn't that you were in the library all the time, but the fact you thought you were the only one studying."

She frowned. "I never saw _you_ in the library."

"The amazing thing about a library is you can take books out of it," Draco pointed out.

"I know that," Hermione said. "But a lot of books are on reserve there, and Madam Pince won't let them out of her sight…"

"Slytherin." Draco said, pointing to his chest.

"Okay, so maybe you could have read without me knowing about it," Hermione said, huffing out her chest. "But that doesn't mean you don't need to read now." She grabbed another book from the pile behind her and handed it to him.

Draco didn't reach for it. "You don't know everything, Hermione. Stop assuming you do until proven otherwise."

"I don't," Hermione replied. "Why would I be doing research right now if I did?"

Draco shook his head. "You think you can solve all the worlds problems like this. Sorry to be an arse, but you can't. Thinking you _can_ is what makes you think you know everything." He put his hand to his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Hermione was stunned, still balancing the book in her hands. "I- This is the best way I know how…"

"I understand the sentiment… but I can't right now, okay? So just put the book away." He didn't look at her. His hand was still massaging his head.

"Oh… oh, I'm sorry Draco you're still concussed, I- I'll get you potions, I-"

"You're babbling is making it worse," Draco snapped.

"I… right." Hermione left the room, but Draco noticed she left all her books on the bed. His head was slightly better without the reading, but the silence felt like pressure in his ears. He realized that Hermione's voice actually released the tension that had built in his skull throughout the day. He was stuck in his bed, he could hardly move across the room, and it made it worse that he was also trapped in his skull. The pounding increased until Hermione opened the door once again.

"Headache potion," she explained, holding it out to him. "This one does taste terrible, just so you know."

"Er… Thanks," Draco said, taking it from her and downing it in one gulp. The effects were immediate, and he felt a little release, like he could think straight again. He sighed a breath of relief and reached for the book again. Hermione's hand intercepted his.

"You shouldn't read anymore today," she told him. "Just because you can't feel the pain, doesn't mean there isn't still healing to do."

"You said yourself this is how you solve problems," he said gesturing to the pile. "Don't you want to gain some more knowledge today?"

"I- I didn't mean…" Hermione took the book and moved it out of his reach. "I have you, don't I? How about you tell me more about this reductive theory of Punnet's."

"What?"

"You don't have to read, and I gain knowledge. I think it will all work out for us, don't you?" She crossed her arms, and waited for his response.

He would have told she was a headache, but Draco didn't have that excuse open to him anymore. Unable to give a good reason against it, he sighed and started speaking.

"Punnet doesn't exactly… care for looking at other sentient beings in the same light as witches and wizards. He explained that the reason for the Goblin interference in the wars of 1650 were based purely economics, but you can see in the Goblin testimonies and differing opinions by other scholars that that wasn't the case for all of those who participated. Some gained nothing by it. So when he talks about more recent issues with Goblin stances in present day…"

Draco and Hermione discussed and debated until the strength of the potions caught up with him, and he nodded off. Hermione pulled the blanket over his shoulders, noting that even just through this one day some color was returning to his cheeks. She moved the extra books from his bed, and left them on the table for the next day, before extinguishing the light and closing the door behind her.

Lupin stirred some extra sugar into his tea. He and Tonks were up most of the night with Teddy, and they only just got him to sleep again. He loves his son more than the world, but at the moment, the world was a dangerous place. He was sure that his exhaustion wasn't the best thing to deal with in the middle of the war. But he also knew how thankful he is for his little family, and that having Teddy gave him more strength to fight this war until the end.

As he took out some bread and jam for a snack, he heard some shouting coming from the second floor. Hermione must have been in Draco's room again, he thought. She was determined to get the boy settled, and her strategy has been to take as many books as she can carry into his room and debate the finer points of spell theory and magical history. She fell into the routine after the first day, and now it had been almost two weeks since he had arrived. She gave him space to sleep and recover, but whenever he was awake, they lived under a mountain of books. Draco was only just able to take short walks around the house with assistance, and the constant company of Hermione and their study made sure he didn't go crazy with cabin fever.

Both being strong personalities, however, they often got into arguments over authors and theories. Neither would budge, and disagreements sometimes grew heated. The day before, Hermione had burst into the living room, red in the face. "He is SUCH a PRAT!" She had shouted, lifting up papers and books scattered around the room, obviously looking for something hidden in the mess. "Draco insists that Arsenius Jigger was wrong in his assessment of Smarmy's work in the Imperius curse and potion-based personality control. If I can find this book, I can show him that Smarmy himself writes- aha!" She raises an old leather bound text in her hand in triumph, and raced out of the room, mumbling things about egos and ferrets before slamming the door behind her.

Lupin thinks that Hermione isn't used to someone who can match her in both wit and extent of scholarship. This arrangement might be just as good for her as it was for Draco.

Today though, the volley of voices from upstairs was a bit lighter. Lupin even heard hearty laughter from the guest room, something he couldn't remember occurring in some weeks. He quietly brought his teacup with him as he tiptoed up the stairs to investigate.

"..._you_ did that? Half the school heard about that!" He heard Hermione's voice first. He stood in the hallway next to the closed door of the room.

"Well, me and Blaise. Flitwick was so mad-"

"How did you get away with it? He must have known it was you."

Draco chuckled. "Calling me out would mean that he would have to admit to it happening. And that would have been more embarrassing than ignoring it completely."

"But as a third year? I'm impressed. With the skill that it took, most people assumed a sixth or seventh year."

"Well isn't that something. The all-knowing Hermione Granger is complimenting the evil Slytherin. And on a prank no less, she must be moving to the dark side."

"Oh, shut up- but you _have_ to tell me how you did it," she insisted.

"Well first, we had to figure out how to break into Flitwick's office…"

"Spying, Remus?" Tonk's voice came from behind Lupin, and he jumped.

"No, no. I'm… checking up on them," Lupin insisted. "They aren't fighting. I was worried."

"They are getting on better than I had hoped. I didn't expect that in my cousin to be honest." She frowned. "You know that will change once Harry and Ron get here."

"Did you hear back from them?" Lupin asked.

"Yes. They've been planning with Bill as much as they could, but they thought they would get here in a couple days to see what Hermione's found out."

"That would be what Hermione and Draco have found out now. Do they know that he is here?"

"No," Tonks said. "I told them that we had a refugee of some sort, but I didn't give any details. Sorry if its a bit selfish of me, but I didn't want to have to get the backlash. One child to deal with is enough." Lupin gave his wife a soft smile.

"I think it is better that Hermione handle it anyway. We should let her know."

"And I think that is your job then. Don't spy on them too much, dear." Tonks gave Lupin's hand a small squeeze, then continued down the stairs. He could hear Hermione's voice again as he knocked on the door.

"...even I don't think that he would- yes?" Hermione said, noticing the sound. She looked up from the small nest of books she sat in at the foot of Draco's bed as Lupin stepped into the room.

"Sorry to interrupt," he began. "But Hermione, can I speak with you? Harry and Ron intend to arrive in a few days, and we need to let them know of the situation." He noticed Draco cringe a little at the mention of the boys' names, but he didn't think Hermione saw. She climbed off the bed, careful not to knock any of her book stack over.

"Yes, yes. I know… they owled me yesterday," she said. "Is it safe to floo them now?"

"We closed down our fireplace to the rest of the network, so yes I think it is safe. They should be expecting you."

"Ok, thank you Lupin." She turned to Draco before she left. "Can you finish with the Merrythought text? I think we were making good headway with that one."

"Of course," he replied, and she smiled in thanks. Lupin didn't say anything about how Draco's eyes lingered on her when she turned to leave.

The talk with her friends didn't go very well. He could see it in the way she carried herself as she stepped around the room. Draco watched her get up, take a book off a shelf and frown before putting it back in its place and depositing herself back on the chair. Draco was well enough to stay down in the library for most of the day now, and they had moved their research operation headquarters to the more spacious room. He played with a glass of water to keep his hands busy as he looked over the last book he was handed.

"Harry and Ron can be such children sometimes," Hermione complained. "Lupin made sure that they didn't come running to my rescue once they heard you were here. They were quite intent on hexing you to oblivion, even after we explained to them what you had done."

"I wouldn't mind hexing them myself," Draco commented.

"Not helpful, Draco. You don't have a wand anyway."

"I could take yours."

"You can hardly walk yet."

"Bloody Hell, don't remind me." He passed the cup of water from one hand to the other several times. "I bet I could still take Potter. Definitely the weasel."

"Those are my friends, Draco. How can you be fighting for our cause, and still hate them so much?"

Draco's hands stilled, and he worked his jaw. "I'm not fighting for _them_," he spat. "I've never liked Potter, and not for the reasons you may think." Hermione tilted her head as a silent encouragement for him to keep talking. Draco's stormy gray eyes met hers. He knew she wouldn't agree with whatever assessment he made of her best friend, but he couldn't help the words from spilling out.

"He got so much attention, like he was the only person whose family was ripped apart by the Dark Lord. People worshipped him for something he did when he was a child - something so many others are doing every day. He isn't the only one who has experienced what it is like to stand before the Dark Lord-"

Draco swallowed and worked his hand through his hair. He had no idea why he was telling Hermione all this. He expected her to jump up and tell him off any second, but she just looked back at him, listening intently. He took a breath and started again. "To stand before the Dark Lord knowing a killing curse is on his tongue. I'm not jealous of that fame or attention though, am I? Can't you see that I _wish_ I could be fighting like they are? It would be so much simpler to know where I stood, and what I should be doing, than live in the hell I grew up in. Potter is _lucky_, but he acts like he is the only one who knows what suffering means."

"I can understand how you would see him like that… but Harry really isn't like that," Hermione explained. "He's always hated the attention he's got, and ever since he arrived at Hogwarts he's acted like he carries the world on his shoulders. It has gotten so much worse since we've been on the run, and I'm just worried for him."

Draco shook his head. "I don't care about what he wanted or what survivor's guilt he carries around with him. He needs to get off his high fucking hippogriff and see the war from a dirtier angle. Not everyone was born on the right side." Draco gripped his glass tighter, knuckles going white, and continued in a softer voice. "He doesn't care what happens to my mother, or Snape. I left them there, and after my betrayal, I don't know how the other followers will react. I'm worried about them," he confessed.

"From what little contact we got from Snape since you arrived, he seems ok." She tried to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. "He hasn't sent any news of your mother, but if anything happened to her I know he would let you know somehow. If your father stayed loyal, she must be safe as well, right?"

"My father is a heartless coward," Draco said. "And even if my mother is safe from Bella and the rest of them, she still doesn't know I'm alive. I know she must be worried, and I hope she doesn't do anything… and what will come of her after the war?" He turned to Hermione and looked at her intently. "Even if the Dark Lord is defeated, Potter will just throw her in Azkaban. Hell, he'd probably love to throw me in there too, even after all of this."

"You really don't know him like I do. Harry may hold a grudge now, but that won't last. Please trust me."

"I really don't know if I can," Draco replied honestly.

They slipped back into silence, and some time passed before the discomfort from their conversation dissipated. Draco continued to read, putting all his energy into the research they still needed to get done before Harry and Ron showed up. The noise from the turning pages was accented by Hermione's frequent agitated sighs. She eventually got up, and explored the selection on the shelves for the umpteenth time since they settled down that morning.

As she grew more frustrated with the book selection, her aggression toward the books grew, throwing text after text down onto the ground. Draco watched her from the corner of his eye, intrigued by her movements as she flew about the room.

"We don't have the Blenheim Stalk book, do we?" She said, looking through another pile that was already scattered on the floor.

"The muggle expert? Hermione, you grew up with muggles, don't you know enough?"

"I'm not looking to learn muggle studies," she said impatiently. "He was an expert on the Ilfracombe incident, and other use of memory charms on muggles. Death Eater activity often requires the extensive use of memory charms to cover their tracks and I think we might be able to trace those back to wherever else they have been recently. Maybe we can find the Horcrux like that."

"Sounds promising-"

"We don't have the book though!" She said in agitation. "Maybe I should floo Harry, they might have it down at Shell Cottage…"

"Potter is even less likely than you to own a muggle studies book."

"No, you're right…Oh! But Mr. Weasley might! Actually, I'm sure he does! I've talked to him about Stalk before. When Fred and George arrive in a few days I'll ask them about it." She twirled about with another book in excitement.

"Perfect, more Weasleys. I still don't know what you see in them. Besides the hero complex and Gryffindor lovey-dovey shit, I can't see you actually enjoying their company." He suddenly had a reflection of genuine fear in his eyes. "You aren't dating Weasley, are you? Ron I mean."

"Oh Godric, stop. You don't know them," Hermione said coolly. "And no, I'm not dating Ron. But even if I were, it would be none of your business. Merlin, maybe you were right, you _are_ the same Malfoy. You can still be such a prick."

"Cheers, Hermione."

"I just wish we were back at the Hogwarts library. There are so many books I wish I could look at, and we've gone through most of these." She motioned around her.

Draco lifted his eyes. "I don't think you would ever be satisfied with a library. This one is actually not that bad. Especially considering it is a Black family house, a lot of these books are closer to the ones that Bella and other followers would have known about."

"Yes, I guess that is true. But I wish it were bigger," she complained with a slight pout. Draco found that it didn't suit her. He lifted the glass to his lips to take a sip of water, but grimaced at the taste. It had gotten warm in his hands.

"_Glacius_" he said, and the glass cooled to his touch. He noticed Hermione's eyes on him as he lifted the glass to his mouth again.

"You are quite good at that," she commented, noting his lack of wand. They had no spare to give him until the boys arrived.

"You would be too, if properly threatened," he replied, and took another sip. Hermione was silent. "Sorry," he sighed. "That was a bad attempt at a joke…" He gestured toward the cup. "It really isn't that impressive, that spell is actually used in dueling as an attack. This is as much as power as I can get without a wand."

An uncomfortable silence fell over the two. They hadn't spoken about his memories at all. Draco had just accepted that she had seen them, and Hermione hadn't wanted to push the subject. Somehow, they had carried on with their research with the knowledge of that darkness looming above them. To Hermione, Draco was still a mystery. She saw that he made the decision to turn away from everything he had been taught when he was young, but she still couldn't really figure out how or why he had really done it. Now though, she knew was not a good time to address his past.

"Would you teach me?" She ventured instead.

"I don't know… I'm not that good at teaching," Draco replied. Hermione looked downcast, but didn't push him. Draco twirled the glass in his hands again. He knew it was his fault that she was fighting with her friends, however much he disliked them, and he already felt in her debt. "I can try though," he said, finally. "As long as you don't start arguing with me over theory."

"Oh thank you, Draco!" Hermione said, face brightening again.

"Hey, this isn't a free lesson. I do this, and you help me with some spells I'm having trouble with. Deal?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Of course! I've been meaning to start dueling again too. Anything you think we should work on."

"Good. Now for wandless magic - I know this is going to be hard for you - but you have to forget everything you ever read or were taught about the technique."

Hermione tilted her head. "Why?"

"Most texts tell you to imagine a wand in your hand, or pretend your finger is the tip of a wand. That is all a mental crutch, and makes it much harder to do spells that require more magic. You have to get over that hurdle first." He turned his palm up and cupped it slightly, like he was holding an invisible ball. "Witches and Wizards have been able to do magic without wands before. I'm sure even growing up in a muggle household you noticed you could do things that no one else could do. Wands only focus magic you already have. Without one, you have to focus it a different way."

He looked into his cupped hand for a moment before muttering, "_Avis_." A small sparrow appeared in his palm. It flitted about his hand, looking about the room and chirping before taking off in flight. It landed in a corner on top of the bookcase, and continued to chirp until Draco ended the incantation.

"When you're a kid, or even now, uncontrolled magic is often caused by strong emotions. That is one way to focus the magic, but it is much more unpredictable. To do it more consistently, you have to focus your mind. That is why wandless, wordless magic is so difficult. Words focus your mind on the spell, and it makes it easier to concentrate on the desired result. Without a wand, you need to know exactly what you want to happen, or nothing will."

"Hm, that is actually really interesting. I think Fronsac wrote something similar to that-"

"Hey, hey. I said no arguing over theory. This is completely for applied spellwork," Draco said.

"I was agreeing with you!"

"Okay fine, but we can't waste time thinking about the history of it. How about you try it out now."

Hermione looked unsure. "Already? Don't you have any more suggestions?"

Draco laughed. "This is a practical lesson, Hermione. You have to just try it out. I picked the _avis_ charm because it is easy to form that picture of what you want in your mind. It's something physical, not more abstract like a cooling charm. I know you can do it."

"Ok," she said, and held out her hand. "_Avis._" Nothing happened. She tried a few more times, and nothing appeared. She glared at her hand in frustration.

Draco scooted forward in her chair to take her arm loosely around her wrist. She had somehow expected his touch to feel cooler, but it was warm and steady against her skin. "I can see the movement in your arm. You're still imagining a wand. Picture that bird, and nothing else. I won't let your arm move."

She nodded, and focused again. "_Avis_," she said. A puff of feathers appeared in the shape of a canary. It immediately dove into the air, and disappeared within five seconds.

"That was good!" Draco said, letting her arm go. "A full form bird too- even if it didn't last that long. That's a good start."

She smiled brilliantly. "I usually get canaries, I'm not sure why."

"You do have control over it, but most people fall into habit. That's the problem with most spells actually, and also why its so hard for people to learn wandless." He held out his hand again. "_Avis._" Another bird flew up into the air, yellow like the canary, but not quite the same.

"That's just a yellow sparrow," Hermione said breaking out into a wide grin. "You didn't change birds."

"Maybe I need some practice too," Draco replied.

* * *

A/N: Please review! I'd love to hear your comments.


	5. Chapter 4: Canary

A/N: I have too much fun speculating on how magic would work, so thanks for putting up with me on that front.

**Chapter 4: Canary**

Draco put his feet up on a pile of books Hermione had left on the floor of the library. He hadn't had time to take in the changes that had come in the past two weeks. It all felt like a dream. Not any dream that he had ever had before though, maybe a dream of some Weasley. A tenuous play at a happy life that could fall apart at any moment. He was with the Order, he had escaped his manor with his life, and Hermione - who he had teased mercilessly since he had met her all those years ago - shared genuine smiles with him. Something he knew he didn't deserve, no matter what the reasons for his hostility were.

His body was still in recovery, and Hermione insisted that he was knocked out cold with dreamless sleep and some number of other potions every night. He gagged and complained, but he took them all the same - doing whatever it took to get back on his feet. As Draco kneaded and played with his fingers, not having anything else fiddle with in his hands, he worried about what would come next. The comfortable routine he had grown accustomed to in their little temporary island away from the war would come crashing down soon, he knew that well.

He tried not to grow too attached to those smiles.

Hermione and Draco had worked together tirelessly for the two days before Harry and Ron were to arrive. When they weren't in the library, they were discussing strategy with Tonks or looking to Lupin for advice. Draco, after much encouragement from Hermione, started helping Tonks with Teddy as well. He was self conscious and awkward, but Tonks could see affection for the child present in his eyes. She would never tell him, but she was happy that he had taken an interest in her baby. Teddy wouldn't know most of his blood relatives, and if his family could grow even a little she was grateful.

"Draco, are you in there?" Hermione called from the doorway. She stuck her head into room.

"You should put some of these books away," Draco said, noting the way she picked through the room, avoiding the piles of papers and texts strewn around the room.

"But they are organized by topic in case I need to see them again. They're only the important ones…"

"Hermione, there aren't any books left on the shelves. You can use your _brilliant _mind to come up with a better system than this." She punched him lightly on the shoulder. "You can't punch me! I'm still injured!" Draco exclaimed in jest.

"Oh, boo hoo," Hermione replied. "I actually came to see if you wanted to work on wandless magic some more. I've been practicing like you've said, but I've had trouble with spells that aren't straight forward summonings or transfigurations."

"When have you had the time?" Draco asked. It had only been a couple days since their last lesson.

"Its… been a bit hard for me to fall asleep some nights," she admitted, looking down at her feet. Draco nodded slowly in understanding. He was afraid that he was becoming too dependent on the potions he had been receiving since he arrived, but they kept the nightmares away, or else he would be in the same position as Hermione. Insomnia was an old friend that he knew would find him again once he stopped.

"How about we work on shield charms then?" He said. "It will be the most useful for you to be comfortable with. I think it can also be a sort of stepping stone from spells with a more physical manifestation."

Hermione's eyes glistened as she concentrated on his words. "Like, imagining a real shield being produced?"

"Sort of. Creating a visual representation in your mind, but also knowing what it is _actually_ doing. If you don't do both you might find yourself with a shield charm that protects you from swords instead of spells." He moved to stand, knocking over some books on his way across the room.

"Ok," he said. "Now send something at me. But nothing too strong in case I fall over and split my skull open on your precious books." Hermione rolled her eyes at the comment, but raised her wand anyway.

"Ready?" She asked, and he nodded. "_Flipendo_." A white light burst from the tip of her wand. Before it could hit Draco, he moved his hand out in front of him palm forward, fingers splayed.

"_Protego_," he said firmly and calmly. A blue field appeared just in front of his hand where the white light from Hermione's attack hit. It lasted only moments, and after the bright flash it was gone. Hermione kept staring at the space in the air where it had been, just like she was studying a textbook. Her brows furrowed and she crossed her arms. Before he could catch himself, he was staring at her, noting how her features fit her well. Her brown curly hair bobbing as she dipped her head to the side, as if getting a better angle on the empty air would enlighten her. She looked alive when she was thinking. _Oh Godric, what am I thinking. _

"If anyone has a question, they are welcome to raise their hand," Draco teased.

"Was that a different color than it normally is?" She asked, turning a finger in a circle to indicate where the shield had materialized. "It was… darker I think." Draco smiled.

"Ten points to Gryffindor. I can't focus enough power into it without a wand for it to block all jinxes and curses, so I had to guess what kind of spell I thought you would throw at me." He made his way toward Hermione's side of the room. "From my experience, the color shifts from dark blue to almost white depending on what you are shielding from. The bright blue of a normal shield charm is from the more general version, and easy to produce when you have a wand. It is better to use your head if you find yourself wandless in a fight though - know your enemy and block their spells."

"How did you know what I would use?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I knew it would be some sort of lighter dueling spell, so I had enough time to prepare before I heard the exact spell come out of your own mouth. It is much harder in a real battle setting, when most of the spells will be done wordlessly. In that case, block only the most dangerous spells, and the ones that will immobilize you. Don't even worry about the others because not only will they cause less damage, Death Eaters are far less likely to use them."

"But how do you know to block only a specific set of spells?"

"Practice," Draco said. "We'll have to build it up blocking one spell at a time so you can feel each shield. Start with a basic stunning spell." Draco helped Hermione position her arm in front of her body, noting that there was no hesitation this time. She was no longer searching for a wand in her empty hand. Draco moved around to stand behind her and spoke to her over her right shoulder.

"Imagine an opponent where I was standing before," he instructed, and reached around her body to guide her hand higher. "You know how stunning feels, so try to imagine blocking those effects, in the form of a physical blue shield. Move your fingers like-"

"Get your BLOODY HANDS OFF OF HER!" Came a bellowing yell from the doorway. Draco turned, and took a cautious step away from Hermione. He could almost hear the quiet life he had lived for the past couple weeks shatter around him. Ron Weasley burst into the room and shoved him into the bookcases, sticking his wand into Draco's neck.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Draco said, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. He couldn't completely keep the tremor out though, as his anger spiked.

'RONALD! Get off of him!"

"He was _touching_ you, 'Mione" he replied. It sounded like he was spitting out a vile substance from his mouth. Draco quite felt like gagging as well.

"He was _helping_ me you twat, now let him go-"

"_Helping?_ He was helping himself to-"

"Ron, that's enough," Harry said, watching the exchange from the doorway. "Hermione, we're just worried about you. He can still be dangerous and-"

"Draco has been kind and invaluably helpful since he has arrived. You have no idea what he has been through, so don't go accusing him of anything. He doesn't even have a bloody _wand_." Hermione shouted, hands balling into fists at her sides. Draco shifted in discomfort at her comments.

"Speaking of my wand," he said, using their argument to break free of Ron's grip. "I would like it back now if you don't mind." He pointed at the wand sticking out of Harry's pocket.

"It's mine now," Harry protested. "I won it from you at the manor."

"No, you imbecile, I gave it to you. Saint Potter had tragically lost his wand in the fight against evil, only to miraculously win one from the unsuspecting captor. You played your part perfectly, I think it all went very well." Draco took a step toward Harry, reaching his hand out. "Now, my wand."

Ron reacted to the advance. "_Stupefy!_"

"_Protego!"_ Draco said, blocking it perfectly in a bright white shield.

"Oh look Hermione, you get another demonstration. How kind of your friends. Did you note the color?" Draco said, voice cold with malice, not breaking eye contact with Harry. "Now I _will_ be taking my wand now. _Accio!_" The wand shot out of Harry's hand and he caught it easily. Harry looked shocked.

"But that can't-"

"Unless it's called by its true master you brainless fool. Now get out of my way." He pointed his wand at Harry, who now stood defenseless in his way to the exit. "I would suggest not to test your luck learning wandless shield charms now, Potter."

"Draco, don't-"

"Shut up, Hermione." Draco said. His peace with her was over the moment her friends stepped foot in the house, and he couldn't help lashing out at her too. It took only a few strides to get to the door, where he shoved Harry aside to get through. Hermione watched his robes whip around the corner and he was gone. She turned on Harry and Ron.

"You selfish, heartless, idiots," she exclaimed. "Why would you provoke him like that?"

"He insulted _you_, Hermione. We would never do that," Harry tried to explain.

"You already had, but you are too caught up in your own prejudices to see it. Don't you think I can defend myself? Make my own decisions on who I want to be my friend? You didn't trust me, so you attacked him."

"_Friend,_ Hermione?" Ron said in shock. "Don't you remember the past seven years where he was a bloody wanker? He-"

"He's changed, Ron. I… Or maybe he was always this way, I don't really know. But what I _do_ know is how much he risked to help us." Hermione's voice quieted. "You didn't see him when he got here, he was covered in blood… it was terrible. You didn't see those memories…"

"But you don't know why?" Harry asked.

"No, not really. I didn't want to make him talk about anything until he was more recovered. All I know is that he has consistently been a good spy for us, and he has proved himself enough."

"Hermione, even if he has good intentions-" Harry started.

"Although I doubt that," Ron mumbled. Hermione glared at him.

"- he's unstable. All that time working as a spy in the presence of Voldemort? He can be violent and impulsive and-"

"And just like you," Hermione finished for him. "What makes him so different? His birth? If you think that, Harry, then you're just as bad as anyone who calls me mudblood."

Harry and Ron were silent at that comment. Harry finally opened his mouth. "I can't say I will ever trust him." Hermione's heart sunk. "But I trust you, so I'll be civil for now."

"But if he does anything to hurt you, 'Mione," Ron added. "I will hex him until he can't even remember his own name."

"Don't threaten him like that, Ron." Hermione reprimanded. "You can trust me on this. I really think he is a good man."

"If you say so…"

"In any case," she said. She didn't want to fuel any more of their hatred for Draco, and she knew they were eager to start planning their next attack. "We need to get working on the research we have been doing. Draco had found a really good article on how early followers of Voldemort often concealed their dark artifacts, and that combined with what I found on Herpo the Foul…"

* * *

After Hermione had explained her theories with Harry and Ron, she went in search of Draco. She hoped he had time to cool down after their lesson was interrupted by the boys, but she was afraid that he would still be hostile. After looking in the living room, and his bedroom, she had eventually found him in Teddy's room. He was standing near his crib, cradling the baby lightly in his arms. Hermione stood quietly and observed from the hallway.

"What do you think, Teddy?" Draco said to the bundle, low and quiet. "Puddlemere United or Harpies in next week's match?" She heard Teddy let out a small gurgling noise.

"I think so too," Draco sighed. "Puddlemere have been doing well this season, but that means bad news for the Tornados." Hermione smiled, and stayed where she was, hidden in the relative dark of the hallway. Teddy hiccuped, then started to cry.

"Oh, no… shhh… I'm sure the Tornados will come back strong. You'll see." He started pacing and bouncing Teddy. The baby hiccupped again, but settled down a bit. "No need to be worried."

He slowly put Teddy back down in his crib, looking down at him with soft eyes. Without looking up, he addressed Hermione. "I know you're out there," he said.

"Sorry… it's just that- you're really good with him you know."

Draco's eyes narrowed as he looked up with her, losing the warmth they held a moment ago. "What do you want, Granger?" He said sharply, turning away from the crib.

"I just wanted to know where you were. You left so quickly-"

"So your friends can come attack me some more? They're just about ready to send me back to the Dark Lord just for looking at you."

"Don't be like that, Draco. I've been trying to tell them-"

"I don't need you to defend my honor," He growled.

Hermione scowled. "Well, you're not doing a very good job of it yourself."

Teddy started crying again, reacting to the sudden raised voices. Draco quickly turned back to the child, picking him up in his arms again. "I know I know, the mean witch made you cry. She's probably a Puddlemere fan." He pulled Teddy up to his chest, and addressed Hermione in a softer voice. "I'm sorry… I just don't know how civil I can be with Potter and Weasley. I know it is important for our plans to work, but the way they look at me…" He looked down at Teddy when he made another gurgling noise. He had stopped crying, but was still being fussy. When he had settled down, he found Hermione's gaze again. "They don't trust me. I know I haven't done much in our past to earn that trust, but I think it is a lot more than just that."

Hermione stepped closer to Draco and peered down at Teddy, taking his small hand in hers. "Harry and Ron are both stubborn. They'll learn eventually… you have to let them see it in you though."

"Don't let them see those memories," Draco pleaded. He dropped his eyes, looking everywhere but at Hermione. "I can't have them in my head… If I can't fucking deal with them now, it'll be impossible if they ever see me like that."

"I won't," Hermione promised. Draco was still not looking at her, so she turned her attention back to Teddy, and tried to lighten the mood. "And you shouldn't be indoctrinating this little guy with your Quidditch affiliations. I don't want another thing for you boys to fight over when Teddy grows up cheering for the wrong team."

Draco smiled at that, though it was sad and heavy. He didn't know if he would even be in Teddy's life for much longer, much less enough time for him to be interested in Quidditch. The little boy was part of this fragile world, and he couldn't imagine any of this being in his future.

* * *

Draco turned over restlessly in his bed. Not only did the noise levels increase with the addition of Harry and Ron in the house, but he had also finally been taken off his Dreamless Sleep potion. The hours he spent staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to come, were filled with the anxiety and agitation he had escaped before.

Draco spent much of the next few days alone. It wasn't that he was avoiding Hermione, but because Harry and Ron were somehow magic-taped to her side, it became second nature to turn the other way when he heard voices down the hall. Lupin had asked him to help him send messages to other Order members during the day, but at night when his hands and his mind weren't busy it was like he was back in the Manor. Draco stared at the black dusty curtains and wooden desk in the corner, tracing the woodgrains he could make out in the dark. Despite the fact that he had memorized every aspect of the bedroom in his sleepless hours, whenever he closed his eyes he felt the cold walls of his Manor bedroom surround him. The solitude made him feel like a schoolboy again, when he had locked the door and hidden from his father.

He was used to being alone. Being lonely meant that he was avoiding Bella's rage, or his father's disappointment. It also meant later that he wasn't risking discovery, and he could fight another day. Solitude was a comfort when he was in the Manor, but now it caused all those memories to flood his head and he couldn't be rid of them.

His lids were finally drooping after hours counting exactly how many cracks were in the ceiling, even though he already knew the answer, because it reminded him of where he was. There were no cracks in any of the Manor's ceilings. His last thoughts were still of his mother, in spite of all his efforts to avoid memories of her kind smile and warm hands. His mother, telling him that she had left her, and that now she was just as alone as he was…

_You do what you must to survive…_ No, he couldn't. He couldn't.

_They will die. Your family will die, and you will die, and it will be your fault. _

_You can't save anyone. He couldn't save himself._ No.

_Selfish… _No… _Coward_… it was too much…the pain, the fear. _You can't hide from what you've done._ NO!

Draco woke gasping for air. He could feel his heart racing, and unshed tears at the corners of his eyes.

"Draco? Are you alright?" His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, and he saw Hermione sitting at the edge of his bed, eyes wide in concern. He couldn't find his voice to speak, and he couldn't quite tell for sure if he was still asleep, so he just stared at her in silence. His breaths slowing to a normal pace.

"You were screaming… I could hear you from my room, I wanted to make sure you were okay." She reached out to touch his arm, and he let her. The warm touch soothed his nerves, and he was too tired to think of putting up any mental walls against her. The darkness of the window indicated he must not have been asleep for long, but he couldn't tell what time it was.

"It was just a dream," he managed. "I'm fine." She gave his shoulder a little squeeze. He was glad for it.

"I know. I just-" She dropped her hand, and got up from the bed. "I can go now, if you want-"

"No!" Draco said, before he could take the words back. "…er, will you stay? Just for a little. I don't want to be alone right now."

Hermione shifted her feet. "I'll stay." She pushed his side lightly, indicating she wanted to get on the bed with him. He shifted to the right, and lifted the covers for her to join him. _What am I doing?_

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hermione asked. "It doesn't have to be your dream… anything at all. It helps, Harry says it does at least, he gets a lot of dreams like this…"

Draco was too tired to make any comments about Harry. "Potter…" he said simply. "I didn't wake them up, did I?" He was more concerned about them hearing him, than disturbing their sleep.

"No, they can sleep through anything," Hermione explained. They were silent. Draco knew that Hermione wouldn't say anything unless he started the conversation, but he couldn't speak. His mouth was dry, and his tongue was stuck. She looked up at him. His platinum blonde hair was messy, and strands fell over his face. Dark circles under his eyes accented his otherwise pale features. They weren't recent marks, something that would go away with some decent sleep. They looked like they had been there for years.

She carefully took one of Draco's hands, and held it in her own. She was there for him, until he wanted to talk to her, or until he wanted her to leave. He stared at their hands, threaded together, and he felt sick.

"I'm not a good person," he said. His voice was rough and it was hard to get out.

"No, I've seen-"

"No!" He said desperately. "You don't understand. I've killed, Hermione! I killed someone who didn't deserve to die. I ended a life, and nothing I ever do will make up for that… and I hear her voice every single night." He was expecting her to let go of his hand. He thought she would get up in disgust, and leave. But she stayed there beside him, holding his hand.

"Tell me," she said.

"Jessica Prewett," he said slowly. "The Dark Lord says they are a family of blood traitors, and as soon as they… we got a chance to go after any of them, we went. They were an example of what would happen to blood traitors. A sort of 'fuck you' to the Order…"

"That was late last year, wasn't it? I heard about it."

"I'm sure you did, they wanted to make it as visible as possible" he said, playing with the blanket with his free hand. "She lived with her parents in Watford. She worked in the ministry, as a secretary in the department of magical transportation I think… she had no affiliation with the Order, and no overt muggle sympathies. Her family was picked because of what other Prewetts had done before."

Hermione gave him an encouraging nod of the head when he heard his voice waver. He continued.

"We arrived at the house, and set fire to it immediately. It was about midnight, so they were asleep already. We captured them easily when they came running out, and we held them down as they watched their house get destroyed. I…" he swallowed. "I blasted the windows, and ripped their grounds apart, anything to look like I was enjoying the destruction of a family's life. I needed to act the part of a good Death Eater because I was already on thin ice, but I didn't want to go near the family. The parents were killed when I was working on the house. I could hear Jessica screaming, she was so terrified-" His eyes darted back and forth around the dark room, like he was watching the scene unfold in front of him. "Rowe grabbed me then. Said it was time I proved my father's loyalties. I had failed the night on the astronomy tower when I had refused to kill Dumbledore. If I didn't do this now, my family would be done. The Dark Lord would kill me and my mother, and everything would be over." His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes before speaking again. "She just looked at me. She was obviously scared, but she had just stopped screaming. Her parents were lying dead beside her, but her eyes were on me. I didn't have Snape to get me out of this one. And I just… killed her. I was given a choice, and I chose to save my life over an innocent one."

"Oh, Draco…"

"The killing curse is surprisingly easy. It isn't like the other unforgivables, where you need to be skilled and really wish to hurt the other person. _Avada Kedavra_ just… happens. I have yet to successfully complete the cruciatus curse, but I could kill someone just like that."

Hot tears fell from his eyes then, and he couldn't remember the last time he had cried. He brushed them away quickly. However silly the sentiment, he didn't want Hermione to see them. He was still sick, but he refused to feel weak. He felt more open and exposed than he had in years, and her hand felt like the one anchor he had to the world, but there was also a catharsis in just having someone listen. Someone who understood what he did, and was still holding his hand.

"I'm afraid that nothing I will say will make you see this differently," Hermione said. "But you must know that you couldn't have saved her. Even if you didn't kill her, someone else would have. You were put in an impossible position, and you made the most logical decision."

"I still did it though," he said. His voice was shaking. "She was looking at me, and then she was dead. To her, I didn't care about her, or her parents. I had killed her in cold blood to advance my position in the organization. And the thing is, everything about that is true. To her, it doesn't matter that I feel guilt or that I wanted to refuse… someone had told me to kill, and I did... They levitated the bodies after that, and it was my honor to do the _morsmordre_ - it was a perfect gift-wrapped murder. I watched her up there, floating with the Dark Mark. The house was still burning and I knew that I had put her there."

"You saved yourself, and your mother," Hermione said. "I know that it was your love that made you do it, even if it was a terrible thing."

Draco shook his head. "I may agree with Potter, Hermione. You are too open to see the best in me, it's dangerous. It was fear that made me do it." She chewed her lip, and looked down.

"Did it work then? Did they accept you after that?" Hermione asked.

"In a way," he said. "Bella took more and more interest in me after that, and as long as she was there the other followers wouldn't touch me. That was its own torture, but it was even worse when I didn't have her to deal with. I couldn't stand myself, and I got reckless."

"What do you mean?"

"At that point I had been sending letters to the Order, but otherwise I was working to save my own skin," he said it with distaste, like he was embarrassed. "But hearing Jessica in my dreams every night… I took it on myself to stop the revels I knew about. I would apparate myself to the homes and disguise myself, or send the families letters… tell them to leave…it worked a few times, they had got out in time, but it didn't last. The snatchers usually found them within days…" He grimaced. "It was a death wish for me really. If Snape hadn't confronted me, I would have been dead in a month, no question."

"You're not dead, Draco. You survived. You're here, now."

Draco's voice became very low. Hermione had to lean in to hear him clearly, even though she sat right beside him. "I think I wanted to die. That whole time, I wondered if I was taking risks on purpose… Snape saved my life, and not just because he stopped me. Because he understood, he's the only one who can. I never thanked him."

"You will," she said, and then she was quiet. She couldn't find the right words, so she put her free arm around Draco's shoulders in a small hug that he leaned into. She didn't know if he would regret this talk in the morning, but tonight, in the dark, she would be here. Draco found that her warmth was all that he needed.


	6. Chapter 5: Wren

**Chapter 5: Wren**

Morning light was filtering through the window by the time Draco had finally fallen asleep again. Hermione had slowly extracted her from his bed, careful not to wake him. They hadn't talked any more since his confession, but sat in companionable silence until the birds were chirping. After his breathing became long and even, Hermione watched him for several more minutes before deciding to head downstairs. She knew she wouldn't be able to fall asleep again, but it was still only about 5am, and the boys wouldn't be awake for a few more hours. All she wanted was a good cup of tea, and some time to think.

Only moments after she sat down at the kitchen table, hot mug of tea in hand, Tonks shuffled in.

"Mornin'," she mumbled, and searched for a mug of her own. "Teddy was up all night. Only just got him to bed… what tea are you having?" She took the top off of the teapot that Hermione had left on the counter and examined the contents.

"Just some Assam. Half the pot is left, you can have the rest."

"Thanks," Tonks said as she poured herself a cup. After she added some milk, she turned and faced Hermione, hand on her hip. "So I saw you come out of a certain young man's room this morning," she commented. Hermione's eyes went wide.

"No, its not what you think," she said quickly. Tonks smirked. "I guess he was my Teddy for the night. I stayed up with him until he fell asleep."

"You care about him." It wasn't a question, more of an observation.

Since Draco arrived, Hermione had felt the watchful eyes of Lupin and Tonks on her back so she understood she couldn't hide anything from the two of them. "I guess I do," she said, but shrugged. "Harry and Ron still hate him though. Nothing I say will change their opinion."

"Don't worry about them. I trust him, and they will too. Anyone who can survive that family and make it out in one piece is worthy of some sort of award."

"Oh that reminds me, is your mother coming around soon? You said that she had only seen Teddy briefly when he was born."

"She is," Tonks said. "And I was meaning to tell you about it too. She's coming over tonight, with Fred, George, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. They've been working with Shacklebolt recently, and they thought now is a good time to hold a meeting. Finally going to have a full house, so you should probably warn Draco."

"Tonight? Oh… well he can help with the cooking," she suggested. "He will want to keep his hands busy so he doesn't worry about being attacked by an army of Weasleys."

"Good idea," she said, and raised her mug in Hermione's direction with a knowing smile. "I'll leave you two to it then." Tonks picked a banana from a bowl of fruit, and left Hermione alone in the kitchen once again.

Hermione stared down at the dark milky tea, and realized she had no idea what her feelings for Draco were. A month ago, he was a Death Eater and a bully. Now, as she pictured his sleeping form on the bed upstairs, she felt a warm affection. He was a worthy intellectual partner, and she thrived in their discussions. Even when they were at each other's throats, she knew she was learning and growing. And though he would scoff at her if she said it, she thought his bravery rivaled that of any Gryffindor.

She hoped that the previous night would not change how he acted around her.

* * *

"Hermione?" Draco called. It was around 3pm, and they needed to start getting ready for the arrival of the other Order members. He was apprehensive when she had told her they were coming, but at the same time, he was looking forward to seeing his aunt for the first time. Andromeda had married Ted Tonks before he was born, so he had never had a chance to meet her due to the family dispute, but his mother still spoke of her kindly. More kindly, in fact, than she ever did about Bella.

Mostly though, he was terrified of a reaction like Harry and Ron's from the rest of the Weasley family.

He didn't regret sharing his past with Hermione as much as he expected. The silence was suffocating him, and without Snape around, he was bearing the burden alone once again. When she woke him up this morning at about 10am, her eyes still looked at him with acceptance and friendship. He couldn't thank her enough for that. Still, he felt more exposed and vulnerable than he ever did in the house, even more than when he couldn't even walk by himself.

Draco couldn't avoid Harry or Ron forever, and now every glare and comment felt like they knew what he had done. Hermione wouldn't tell, he knew. But the secret seemed out there nonetheless.

"Hermione?" He called again, stepping into the living room.

"Not here, Malfoy," said Harry coldly. He was sitting on the coach, speaking to Lupin.

"I think she's in the kitchen," Lupin said quickly, looking from one boy to the other, wanting to interrupt the fight before it began.

"Thank you Lupin," Draco said, and narrowed his eyes at Harry before stalking off to the kitchen. He found Hermione and Kreature discussing… or maybe arguing… about the food for dinner.

"Oh there you are Draco," she said. "We need to get some chicken to cook for dinner and-"

"Kreacher?" He said, understanding Hermione's question before she finished. The house-elf turned toward the blonde haired boy.

"Yes Master Malfoy," he said with undeniable glee. "Kreacher lives to serve all those in the noble House of Black."

"Yes, yes Kreature. Can you get us some chicken please?"

"Yes Master, Kreature will be back soon." And with that, Kreacher popped out of the room. Hermione looked at him, unsure.

"I know he would do it if I ordered, but I just couldn't get myself to make him do anything he didn't want to…"

"I know all about your SPEW insanity Hermione," Draco insisted. "But really, they do want to serve. They take pride in the wellbeing of their families. Kreacher may feel uneasy serving a muggleborn after all his time in this house, but if you are firm and direct he will respect you."

Hermione sighed, and sat heavily on one of the chairs. "I know that, but it still feels cruel." She looked up at him. "Sometimes I still feel like an outsider in this world, even after all this time."

"I'm sure I helped a lot. During school I mean."

"Yes," Hermione said, voice oozing with sarcasm. "You made me feel right at home." She looked around the kitchen, and continued. "I don't think we can get started with dinner until Kreacher comes back, so is there anything else we need to do?"

"Actually, I was going to call in that favor." She lifted an eyebrow in question. "I mean that its time you taught _me_ something."

"Oh," she said. "What?"

"A Patronus," he said. "I know that's how you communicate, I've seen Snape use his before. I think…"

"You don't want to feel like an outsider either," she said.

"Something like that."

"You know the basic concept, right?" He nodded. "Right, good. Really, I shouldn't be the one teaching you this - Harry got his down third year, and I've had a bit of trouble with it… but I can see why that wouldn't be ideal."

"Actually, I find it better to be taught by someone who struggled with a spell," Draco replied. "They are more likely to know the common pitfalls and tips to make it easier than someone who has it come naturally."

"Then maybe this will work out. Think of your happiest memory, one that can find strength from, and guide that energy through your wand," she instructed. "_Expecto Patronum._"

A silvery-blue otter emerged from her wand, and swam around the room. Draco watched it in wonder as it circled around him, then faded from existence. Hermione had a bright smile on her face. In spite of himself, Draco smiled too.

"Remember to let that memory fill you, don't think of anything else. So, as you are a big fan of active participation, how about you try now."

Draco took out his wand and shifted his feet. "_Expecto Patronum_," he said confidently, but nothing appeared. Not even a bit of blue mist. He scowled and dropped his arm. "It looks like you are a better student than I am."

"You say that as if I got wandless spells right on the first try. I don't think your memory is powerful enough, what are you thinking about?"

Draco opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking down at the floor. "Flying," he said finally.

Hermione sniggered, remembering what Harry had said about his first Patronus lessons. "Boys…"

"I hear dark wizards aren't able to produce Patronuses," came a voice from the door. Ron stood there, arms crossed and eyes cold. Draco couldn't tell how long he'd been watching for. "Their wands spit up maggots and they're eaten alive. Maybe you should stop practicing, Malfoy."

"Fuck off, Weasley."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he feigned apology and shrugged. "I'm just looking out for the ferret's safety."

"Draco is in no danger of this spell backfiring," Lupin said, stepping into the kitchen. "Only a wizard like Voldemort, who has never known love and never known happiness, would never be able to produce a Patronus."

Ron snorted. "What does Malfoy know about love?" Draco's eyes narrowed to slits, and his fingers pulsed around his wand. Hermione touched his arm lightly, reminding him not to do anything he would regret.

"Ron, you're being a complete prick," she said. Ron noticed the touch, and his face turned red.

"What are you doing with him, Hermione? He's obviously using you. You can't spend time with him like that-"

"_I_ can choose to spend time with who _I_ like, Ronald! And right now, that is not you. Stop acting as if you have some right over my time. Now, if you don't mind, Draco and I need to cook dinner for _your_ family, so can you get out!?"

Ron hesitated, before following Hermione's orders. Draco could still hear a mumbled "wanker" directed at him under his breath. Draco turned to Hermione in a little awe. Her outburst reminded him a little of when she had punched him in third year. It was better to see it from his current perspective.

Kreacher popped back into the room, and deposited the chicken on the counter. "Master Malfoy would be requesting anything else of Kreacher?"

"No thank you, you may go," Draco said, still staring at Hermione, and the house-elf disapparated.

"Do you two… need any help?" Lupin asked, slightly awkwardly. He didn't know much about cooking, but he wanted to make sure Draco and Hermione were alright after Ron's comments.

"We are fine, thank you Lupin," Hermione answered.

"I'll be in the living room if you need me. The Order should be arriving in about an hour."

"Well," Hermione said, tentative smile back in place. "Let's get started? We can work on your patronus some more later."

"Alright… er… I don't know anything about cooking…"

"Don't worry. Even Harry can do it. Now first pass me the chicken…"

They cooked the muggle way, and Draco found it strangely relaxing. It reminded him a lot of potions, and he wasn't too bad at it. As long as he had Hermione giving him the instructions, he was busy and content. He chopped onions, and mixed a marinade, and soon the room was filled with a delicious smell of hot food.

Hermione's plan had worked. Draco had almost completely forgotten about the imminent Weasley arrivals, in his concentration. Until, of course, Fred and George swept dramatically into their presence.

They had come early to Grimmauld place, and made their way straight to the kitchen, following the scent of the freshly cooked meal. "Hermione," Fred called. "What is that amazing smell…"

"... Look, Fred. There _is_ a Malfoy here!" Said George, as he waltzed into the kitchen with his brother.

"... Is it really? I can't tell with all that… is he actually stirring that pot with his hands?"

"Maybe I'm mistaken."

"I think he just has something on his face."

"Was that… a smile?"

"Impossible. With that shade of blonde?"

"Careful, he has a knife."

"If he didn't hurt Ronnie, he wouldn't hurt us. Right, Malfoy?"

"...er…"

Hermione chuckled, and went over to hug the twins. "Hi Fred, Hi George. Be nice."

"We are always nice-"

"-enough..." George reached over Hermione's shoulder to grab a taste, but she slapped his hand away. "Aw, don't be like mum."

"I hope that I can be anything like Molly," she said. "When will they be here?"

"No idea," Fred responded, and succeeded in snatching some food before running off. George followed close behind.

"Thanks Hermione! See ya, Malfoy," he shouted behind him as he disappeared down the hallway. Draco looked at Hermione with a tinge of horror in his face.

"Oh don't worry, they're harmless," she said, and then thought again. "Actually, maybe a dose of caution is better. Don't eat anything they give you, and be wary of free offerings." Draco's eyes widened again. "Other than that, I actually think they'll be the least of your worries."

Draco agreed that there had been no open hostility directed at him, only teasing. Maybe dinner wouldn't be too bad. He checked the oven, and asked Hermione if the potatoes were done, before starting work on the salad. Right now, worrying wouldn't do him much good, so he put his full mind back to the food.

* * *

When everyone was gathered around the dining room, Grimmauld place suddenly seemed so much smaller. Jokes and casual conversation made the room slightly too loud for Draco's comfort, and he attached himself to a corner off to the side. Besides Fred and George's teasing, and Hermione checking up on him, he was generally ignored. He was fine with that, and from his vantage point he was able to observe all the interactions.

He had been introduced to Andromeda by Tonks when she arrived. She seemed kind, but the interaction was quite formal. His aunt reminded him too much of Bella in her looks, even without the homicidal craze in her eyes. To Andromeda, Draco reminded her too much of her sister. He didn't know the exact nature of their split, as it was more forced by the family than by any animosity between the siblings, but it made their conversation stilted and awkward nonetheless. Now, his aunt was holding Teddy in the corner of the room with Molly and Tonks. They all were happily fussing over the little boy, and Draco didn't want to interrupt the mothers.

While Ron looked like he was being tortured by his two brothers, Harry was busy talking to Lupin. They were close, he could tell, and he felt a little guilty for the way he had been acting recently. He respected Lupin very much now, and was embarrassed how often he had to play the mediator between angry teenage boys.

He then turned his attention to a conversation between Hermione and Mr. Weasley. The elder Weasley's eyes looked at Hermione with close to a fatherly affection as she laughed at something he had said.

"No, no, that's a plug. That isn't what that is for..." Hermione said, still laughing. She noticed Draco's eyes on her then, and waved him over. "Oh Draco, maybe you can ask Arthur about our work on muggles?"

As he walked closer, Mr. Weasley's eyes darted from his face, to his hair, and to his exposed arm sporting the dark mark. It wasn't in a suspicious way, he could tell. It was a look closer to confusion in how to act toward Draco. Mr. Weasley had much more contact with Lucius than any of the others, and that animosity would taint their relationship no matter what he knew about Draco's recent actions.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said in greeting. "We were just speaking of your theories concerning Stalk's work on Confundus use on muggles," His tone was formal, yet a bit hesitant.

"Yes sir," Draco replied. He wanted to present himself in the best possible light in the current circumstances. Although his grudge toward Harry and Ron had yet to fade, he didn't want to make enemies of the rest of the family. "We believe if we can track memory charms, the use of some which are more unique to Death Eaters, we will be more successful in tracing their movement." He didn't want to include the fact that he knew this because he himself had performed some of those memory charms in revels, but perhaps Mr. Weasley had inferred that himself.

"Ah, yes. Hermione was correct in assuming I owned _Muggles who Notice,_ and I'll be happy to lend you the book for your research."

"Thank you, sir." He said, and searched for more words. "I know you are an expert on these matters, and I was hoping for your opinion on possible ways to conduct these searches."

"You could run into some difficulties when exploring muggle neighborhoods," he started. "But I have some suggestions on how to get around some of those…"

They eased into a discussion that was closer to businesslike than appropriate for a family gathering, but Draco was pleased that Mr. Weasley had seemed like he was interested in his ideas.

* * *

The conversations at dinner were slightly more stressed. Thoughts of the war were hanging over their heads, but the discomfort between certain parties made it almost impossible for them to talk strategy. Except for the twins cracking jokes whenever they could, the table was relatively silent during the meal.

Surprisingly, it was also Fred and George who were able to start the Order related discussions, in the end.

"So, Fred and I have been working with Kingsley," George said, picking at the last of his chicken.

"Right somber fellow-"

"-but a great wizard. Really knows his stuff."

"He's been on top of the Death Eater activity in the ministry, and he reckons there's some business going down in Sheffield."

"Less killings, but more dark wizards. That sort of thing-"

"-like they don't want to bring attention to it."

"Interesting," said Mr. Weasley, scratching his chin. "Do we know what's up there?" The twins shook their heads. Draco, who hadn't said a word during the meal, anxiously looked about the table.

"I think I know something," he said. He felt the eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on his glass of water. "The Lastranges have a couple large properties in that area. One is still occupied by relatives, but one I know is empty. That one belongs to Rodolphus."

"So do you think it is a safe house?" Mr. Weasley pressed.

"No," Draco said, working through his memories of his uncle's family. "The manor has served them well as the only safe house thus far, and even though they know the Order knows the location, it would be more risk than it is worth to move their headquarters. I think they are hiding something… maybe the Horcrux there."

"We need to investigate it then," Harry said. "This is the best information we have, and we need to act soon."

"Hey, Harry. Even I wouldn't go jumping into a situation like that," Tonks said. "Do we know anything more about the house?"

"We think most of their holds are guarded with family blood magic," Hermione supplied. "With their notions about blood purity, they assume it is safe when kept in the family."

"So we need someone in the Lestrange family?" Harry asked.

"No," Draco said. "Bellatrix moved the Horcrux. Because the Dark Lord trusts her over her husband, I think it is guarded by Black family magic." He turned to Andromeda.

"I think you are right," she said, seeing the question in Draco's eyes. "Sorry, but I can't duel like my sister can though, I don't think it would be wise to take me on any missions."

"No," Hermione agreed. "But Draco and Tonks are both in the Black family as well. It might reject Tonks because of her blood status, but Draco is still pure-blood. I think the wards would recognize him."

"Wouldn't they have disowned him by now?" Ron said. It wasn't said like he was attacking him, but as if Draco wasn't in the room.

"It is more work than you expect to disown someone. Even if my father has no love toward me, he is still a selfish man who only has one son. Somewhere in his sick mind, he still believes he will live to see the Malfoy line continue, and he won't risk that," Draco explained.

"So he can get us in?" Ron said, still not addressing Draco directly.

"We can't know for sure…" Hermione started, but Draco interrupted.

"Yes. I can." He said with a strong, steady voice, and for once he thought that even Harry and Ron had heard him.

"We start planning then," concluded Tonks.

* * *

After dinner, the gravity of his promise hit Draco. He knew he was not fully recovered, and the lack of sturdiness on his feet combined with his relative lack of practice in dueling in the past few weeks made him regret the confidence of his assurance.

He walked up the steps to the room where Hermione slept. He wanted to consult her on blood magic, and the wards he thought would be up at the house. Although he knew many from the wards around the Manor and his time with Bella, he was unsure of any others that would be set up on the grounds. Her expertise in areas he didn't have as much experience in was necessary, and he was impressed at her ability to keep her and her friends safe in the time they were on the run.

He traced the lining of the carpet with his eyes as he approached the room. He knew it was a lie if he said that the mission was the only reason he was looking for her. He needed the comfort of her eyes and her soft touch. And the support of her faith in him. He shook his head vigorously… _Never rely on anyone other than yourself_, he heard Bella's voice in his head.

As he reached her door and lifted his hand to knock, he stopped himself. He heard voices from inside the room, laughing and quick banter.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice traveled through the wooded door between them. "You can't say something like that!"

"It's the truth! I heard it myself from the old man's mouth…" She heard both Hermione and Harry's laughter rise and fall as they talked like the old friends they were. Once again, he felt out of place.

"You gonna knock or what?" A voice came from behind him. He realized his arm was still raised next to the door, and he put it down in embarrassment. He looked over his shoulder to find Fred and George, side by side in the small hall. Andromeda and as well as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had left after the discussion, but the twins had stayed.

"It's not that important," he said, and made to walk off. Fred blocked his path.

"What's got your wand in a knot, mate?" He asked.

"Sorry to put holes in your cauldron, but 'ol Harry is already taken-"

"-by Ginny of all people. Can you imagine?"

"Maybe if you put in enough effort, he'll swing that way…"

"I don't know George, he seems pretty smitten. I, for one, can't see why."

"Hey! That's my sister you're talking about!"

Draco couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He didn't exactly know their motives, but the two red headed boys were putting in effort to let him know that he was welcome, in their own way. Fred leaned foward and whispered in Draco's ear. "You might have a chance with Hermione, though."

Draco set his features again, trying to keep any reaction from surfacing, but his pale face easily gave away the tint of pink he turned at the comment. "No… er… I don't-"

"Don't worry, Malfoy. We won't tell." Fred winked at him, and Draco just stood rooted to the spot. He could still hear the muffled voices of Hermione and Harry carrying on their conversation.

"You're good with Potions, I hear," George said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You interested in helping us out a bit on a new idea?" Draco looked from one twin to the other, Hermione's words of warning still fresh in his mind.

"No need to worry, its nothing sinister," Fred assured him.

"Well… maybe a little sinister…"

"...Just enough to make it interesting!"

Draco looked back at the door, then to Fred and George. To him, whatever experiments they were concocting were less dangerous than entering Hermione's room at the moment, so he agreed and followed them to their joint room.

* * *

A couple hours later, as Harry is leaving her room to head to bed, they heard a huge_ bang_ from the floor above them.

"NOT THAT ONE MALFOY!" Fred's bellows echoed around the house. They heard another _bang_ and then silence. Hermione turned to Harry in horror, and they raced up the stairs to the twins' room.

They pulled open the door, Harry with his wand out, expecting the worst. But instead, they found the three boys covered in green and black oozing liquid, doubled over in laughter.

"He did it!" George cried, indicating to the cauldron in the middle of the room. "Malfoy here actually completed it for us." Draco had something between a proud and apologetic look on his face.

"I'm telling you, he might have more guts than we do," Fred agreed.

"...more?" George asked, looking at his brother.

"Ok, he has _almost_ as much guts. But that is a major compliment, coming from us."

Hermione peered carefully into the messy cauldron. "What is it?" She asked, eyebrows raised as if afraid of the answer.

"Invisi-taffy!" Fred said with glee. "Better than a disillusionment charm-"

"-although worse than an invisibility cloak."

"All in edible form!" They completed together.

"It actually seems quite helpful," Draco added. The serious tone in his voice offset by the ridiculous color of his face. "They just needed help getting the disillusionment charm to adhere correctly to the taffy. The idea to take the invisibility from the inside out is brilliant, really."

"Thanks, love," Fred said.

"I'm blushing." George put a casual arm around Draco. It was surprising, and a little wet, but he didn't shrug it off. The look of confused discomfort on Harry's face enough was worth it.

* * *

A/N: The complete story will be about 12 chapters plus an epilogue... although my head has been bouncing around this universe for a while so maybe some more added to that.

Thanks to all you lovely people reading! Please review!


	7. Chapter 6: Mockingbird

**Chapter 6: Mockingbird**

They decided they would infiltrate the Lestrange house on Friday. They got cryptic news from Snape indicating there would be a Revel that night, and that a majority of the Death Eaters would be thus occupied. The Order hoped that this meant they had to fight through fewer of them when they went after the Horcrux.

They had a meeting for those who would be going - Harry, Hermione, Ron, Tonks, Lupin, Fred, George and Draco - on Thursday night. Harry had told them that they would most likely be looking for the Helga Hufflepuff's cup, and Draco drew a layout of the property as best as he could remember from his visit there years ago. Nerves were high, but with the plan set as it was they felt like they weren't going into a dragon's den blind.

With his mind racing like it was, Draco knew he was far being able to fall asleep, so he volunteered to help Tonks put Teddy down for the night. Andromeda would come tomorrow afternoon to watch him as they completed the mission.

"Thanks, Draco," Tonks said, laying her son down in the crib. "He should be out cold soon."

"I'd like to watch him for a bit, if that's ok." Draco said, leaning slightly against the wooden frame of the baby's bed.

"Of course. Just make sure you get some rest," Tonks replied, and gave him a soft smile before leaving him alone.

He watched the little boy breathe in and out, and it calmed him. No matter what happened the next day, Teddy would still be here, safe. Still breathing, and still fussing.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Draco turned to see Harry silhouetted against the light in the hall.

"Bloody hell Potter, we can't fight tonight. If we make it out tomorrow, you can fight with me about whatever you want. But I don't want to waste my energy on you."

Harry nodded stiffly, and walked silently to Draco's side. "He's my godson," he told him.

"He's my cousin," Draco replied.

"I guess that means we're family," Harry said. Draco couldn't tell what he meant.

Draco decided now was the best time to offer some semblance of an olive branch to the other boy. He took a breath, eyes set on Teddy. "I'm not sure of how many blood relatives I'll have once this is all over. After all I've seen - I can't believe in any ideas of blood supremacy. But I _do_ believe in the power of family, however fucked up mine is. I want Teddy to be okay. Not just that, I want him to grow up with more love than I did…than we did I guess." He turned to Harry, and found more understanding in his face than he had ever witnessed before.

"I know," Harry said. "That's what I want too."

* * *

"Okay," Harry said, commanding the attention of the others. "Everyone know the plan? We apparate to Old Billywig Tavern, and go from there. After we get in, we stay in our pairs at all times. Fred and George, secure the outside. Lupin and Tonks will secure the inside, and Ron, Hermione, Malfoy and I will find the cup. Clear?" There were general sounds of agreement from the group. "Do not apparate back here if you are being followed. They will not be allowed in due to the Fidelius charm, but we cannot risk them knowing anything about where we are. We meet back at the Burrow first." They stood in the living room of Grimmauld place, wands out and minds set. At Harry's final check, each pair found each other to side-along apparate to the meeting location. They needed to ensure that even if the pairs got separated, no person would be left fighting alone.

Draco found Hermione's arm. Though Ron protested at the choice of partners, he couldn't deny the fact that no one knew his dueling form better than Hermione did. In addition, they both were experts on the wards and protective charms, and needed to work together to take them down. However, logic never stopped Ron from sulking before.

They apparated to a dark street. Only half the streetlamps were lit leading to the lonely pub at the end of the pavement. Draco heard the _pop_ of others appearing around them, but nothing else stirred. The only other noise came from the far off babble of a few drunken wizards frequenting the Old Billywig. It was a colder night, and so none of them were outside to witness the eight members of the Order appear. The night reminded him of many others where he had worn a much different cloak. Even if in his head he was fighting for the same side, this would be the first time he had turned his wand, as well as his loyalty, against the followers of the Dark Lord.

"This way," Harry called, and they followed him away from the quiet pub. They walked silently, listening intently for any waiting Death Eaters in the shadows, but none appeared in the fifteen-minute journey to the Lestrange house. The decrepit building sat atop a hill, alone except for a solitary rotting tree beside it. To Draco, it looked deserted. The group stopped at the bottom of the hill.

"Are you sure it will be here, Harry?" Ron asked his partner.

"Yes," he replied, looking up at the abandoned looking house. "I can feel it."

Hermione took a step forward and raised her wand. "_Aparecium_." A silver light appeared in a circle around the property, only a few meters from where they stood. Further on, a blue and red one shone at the perimeter of the house itself. "This one is a common ward, I can disarm it now. Of the two further in, one is blood magic as we expected, and another is one I haven't seen before. Do you recognize it, Draco?"

"Yes. It is one Rudolphus made himself, but I've seen him set it up before. I can take it down."

Fred, George, Lupin and Tonks surveyed the grounds as Hermione worked on the Lestrange house's first line of defense. She got in within five minutes, and they moved inward toward the building.

"Careful," Harry warned. "We are relatively exposed on high ground now, they'll be able to see us before we see them."

As Draco worked on the second ward, Lupin and Tonks came back to inform them they had found nothing unusual on the grounds.

"It's strange," Tonks commented. "I was expecting traps or hidden alarms but I couldn't find anything. This is too easy…"

"Hopefully they're relying too much on the bloodlines," Hermione said. Draco had successfully taken down the second ward, and he handed a knife to Tonks.

"We just need a little blood," he said. Tonks soberly took the knife from his hand, and they slit their palms. Draco could feel the warm drip of liquid on his hand as he placed it next to Tonks' on the wooden door. The others held their breath, and waited. With a painful _creeeaak_ the door opened, and allowed the group inside. The two quickly healed their hands, and entered, wands first, into the house.

"_Lumos_" the tips of their wands lit, and they looked about the front hall. Cobwebs and dust covered every surface, like nobody had been there for years.

"Arggh!" A pained noise came from Harry, as he pressed his hands on his forehead. "Upstairs," he managed to get out, and pointed up to the second floor.

"You go," Lupin said, motioning to the four teenagers. "Dora and I will check the bottom floor."

As they climbed the steps, Draco felt soft fingers on the hem of his robes. Hermione's hesitant hands found his, and his heart calmed. He stole a glance at her soft brown curls and fierce eyes, before squeezing her hand once, and letting go.

"You take that one." Harry pointed at the far right room when they reached the landing. "Ron and I will take this." He indicated to the left, and they split. Draco and Hermione found themselves in an empty bedroom, the only furniture left were a broken bed and a single dresser, aged and cracking.

Draco swept the room with his wand, but all he could see were more dust mites and mouse droppings. But then, he felt something familiar. "There's a concealment charm here," he said, motioning to Hermione. She turned and pointed her wand to where his was.

"_Revelio_." A dark black box appeared in the corner. It was about the size of a tissue box, and completely smooth on all sides. And it _felt_ dark. To Draco, it felt like the Dark Lord was in the room with him again, and he was just a child with no way out. "This must be it."

After checking it for more protective spells, Hermione deemed it safe to pick up, and they brought it out into the hall where they met Harry. He visibly cringed when he saw the box.

"It is definitely in there," he said, rubbing his scar.

Suddenly there was a bang, and they could hear the shouting of Lupin from downstairs. Wide eyed, Harry took the box from Hermione. "We have to get out, now!"

Harry ran toward Ron, who was still in another bedroom upstairs. Hermione looked in shock.

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"They put up an anti-apparation charm around the house," she explained, and then shouted back to Harry. "We can't apparate out, we'll have to run!"

"_Confringo!"_ They heard an unfriendly voice shout from somewhere downstairs. They could hear the telltale crackling of fire, and they Draco knew it was only minutes before the entire house would be in flames.

They bounded down the stairs, but before they reached the bottom, a masked Death Eater appeared and blocked their way. "Fuck," hissed Draco, not meaning for it to be out loud. He pointed his wand and sent several wordless spells at the figure. He blocked them and sent some of his own, red and blue beams of light flying dangerously close to their bodies. Hermione ducked to narrowly dodge a spell, firing back as she went down. When the Death Eater collapsed, and she took Draco's hand, pulling him down the stairs. He saw Lupin and Tonks battling three other Death Eaters, and more shouting he recognized as the twins' coming from outside.

Hermione and Draco ran down the hall to assist their two mentors when two more Death Eaters stepped out of another room. Draco raised a shield charm just in time to block the sudden onslaught. He was suddenly thankful for the years of training under his aunt.

"The Malfoy kid really _did_ sink low, didn't he?" taunted the masked figure in front. Draco flicked his wand and sent more offensive spells, but they were all countered. "He's even found himself a mudblood pet." Draco growled, and shot more spells at them, but in his rage he didn't notice a third Death Eater come through the doorway. Before he was hit, however, two of the three fell to the ground. They were hit by spells coming from above, and when Draco looked up, he saw Harry and Ron at the top of the stairs.

"Get it together, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. "We can't keep saving your arse." They ran down the steps, avoiding the fallen body at the bottom, to join the fight with Lupin and Tonks. The Death Eater numbers seemed to be falling, and ducking under some spells, Draco could see a line out of the house.

"Go!" He said, pointing desperately to the exit, stunning the final Death Eater blocking the way. Tonks, Ron, and Harry bolted for the door with the box while Lupin, Hermione, and Draco held back the Death Eaters on their tails. He noticed the smell of smoke around him, and saw that some of the hallway and the rooms to the side were already burning. He knocked another Death Eater down as he swirled in search for the exit. The fire wouldn't reach the door before they escaped, he thought as he sprinted for the darkness outside, but then he heard a terrible scream.

He whipped around, and saw his uncle Rodolphus holding Hermione by the hair at the staircase, his wand at her throat. Hermione had lost her own wand to her captor, and she could only physically struggle to get free. "Hello nephew," Rodolphus said in a dark, cold voice. "I think you have something of mine."

"It isn't yours," Draco said, standing his ground though his heart was pounding in his ears. "And I do not have it."

"Your new Order friends do though," He said, sticking his wand further into Hermione's flesh. She coughed and struggled. "Do they know you tried to kill their old ring leader?"

"Fuck you, we've already beaten you" Draco said. Lupin, after checking for any other advancing Death Eaters, rushed to Draco's side, wand pointed toward Rodolphus. The smoke was getting dense, and Draco's lungs burned with the heat.

"STUPID CHILD! You think we wouldn't know who opened the door to this, MY house? You find yourself so clever for coming here, but you have just found your deathbed. Bellatrix will be most pleased with me when I bring her your little mudblood's head!" Hermione squealed as Rodolphus yanked her hair again, and pulled her up the stairs. The fire was spreading, and smoke was stinging Draco's eyes as he looked up at them. He couldn't get a clear line of his uncle with the smoke and the way he was holding Hermione.

Draco and Lupin had their wands out, but they could do nothing as Rodolphus held her. "You know where to find me Draco," he said with a wink, then disapparated with Hermione.

"NO!" Draco shouted, and shot toward the collapsing stairs. Lupin held him back, and pulled him toward the door.

"We have to get out Draco," he cried. "You can't do anything for her now. The house is collapsing!" He let Lupin drag him out the door. Once his feet hit grass, he couldn't think, he couldn't move. Lupin apparated with him to the Burrow, where the others were already waiting.

"Is the box safe, Harry?" Lupin asked as they landed. The voice sounded far away. Draco could barely see Harry nod, adjusting the black box underneath his arm. Fred and George had made it back as well, he could see, although they seemed to be bleeding more than the others. Draco felt some relief at the knowledge they were safe, but it the thoughts were distant, and didn't feel like his own. He couldn't feel, he couldn't breathe.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, fear in his voice.

"They took her," Lupin said, voice cracking. "Rodolphus found us, and took her."

Draco gasped for air, his vision tunneling. He felt like the smoke was still in his lungs, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get enough oxygen. Harry's arguing voice, and Ron's raised notes of anguish were drowned out by the ringing in his ears. As his world went black, he felt his legs give out. The feel the soft blades of grass against his face felt like Hermione's gentle fingers, cradling his head as he fell asleep...

* * *

Screams, filled Draco's unconscious mind. They were desperate and sad. Mourning the lives they almost had, taken away from them by a forceful hand. They sounded close, and familiar. They screamed for him, at him, he couldn't tell. He didn't know if the voices were Hermione's or Jessica's.

_Your fault… your fault…_

_Let me go..._

_Why didn't you save me…_

He blinked, and he found himself in a bed. The screams replaced with a ringing that wouldn't go away. His head hurt, and he felt like he was moving in slow motion. Somewhat like what it felt like after a night of too much firewhisky. Similarly, he didn't remember how he got to the bed. the last thing he remembered was-

"Hermione," he said. The smoke from the fire had made his throat feel raw. He made to get up, but his head was spinning and he felt like he would throw up.

"Draco, stop." Tonks pushed him back down to the bed, and gave him a glass of water. "You haven't been out for that long, you need to relax."

Draco drank the water, and handed the empty glass back to Tonks. It had helped his throat slightly, but he still felt like shit in general. "Hermione, she-"

"We know, Remus told us. The rest of them are downstairs right now, working on a plan." She said it to comfort him, but it just made him angry and ashamed.

"Its my fault," he said, burying his head in his hands. He couldn't bear to look at his cousin that moment. "I couldn't save her. I was her partner, I was supposed to look out for her, and my own family took her away. And I'm here in bed like some pathetic… They'll torture her, Tonks. It will be worse this time."

"It isn't all on you, Draco. We had a plan, and it worked until they grabbed her. She knew what the risk was, and she went in there same as all of us."

"We have to go now," Draco said, conviction setting into his face as he pulled his hands away. "When they still think we're regrouping, before they can do any more damage."

"We can't be hasty, not in an operation as critical as this," Tonks said.

"For fucks sake, Tonks-"

"NO!" She said, her hair turning a bright shade of red. "You will come downstairs with me, if you feel well enough, and we will discuss with everyone. You will not risk yourself, or any of us, because you feel guilty."

Draco didn't say anything, but stood up and followed Tonks down to the living room. He wouldn't agree to not doing anything himself, he couldn't leave Hermione there alone.

When they got through the doorway, Lupin stood up. "Are you okay Draco?" Draco dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, sinking into the couch.

"Who bloody well cares if he's alright?" Ron said, mouth pulled down in an ugly frown. "He's the reason she-"

"Ron," Harry interrupted harshly. "Even I can see that we wouldn't have gotten the cup if it weren't for Malfoy. Now isn't the time, Hermione needs us."

"Bella is going to be the one to torture her again, we need to get to her soon!" Draco's words came out fast, and his tongue was tripping over them. "She was furious when you three escaped the last time, and she won't let her off easy now."

"Easy?" Ron exclaimed. "You think what she went through last time was easy?"

"You don't know what she's capable of," Draco said flatly.

"I was _there_ last time and-"

"I WAS THERE TOO! Don't you _dare_ lecture me on what you don't know."

"YOU SHOULD HAVE STOPPED IT THEN!" Ron bellowed.

Fred and George were holding him back before he knew he was standing. "Let it go, Mate," George spoke into his ear. He backed off, and the twins let go of his arms. Suddenly, a terrible pain shot through his arm like it was on fire. At the same time, he heard a thud from across the room.

"Arrghhhhh…" Harry was on the floor, holding his head between his hands. "Voldemort… he's angry… he's… ahh…"

Draco looked down at his arm, and saw this Dark Mark pulse black and angry. He cradled the arm back to his chest, agreeing with Harry. "He's angry with his followers… Ahh. FUCK... He wants everyone to feel it."

"...Hogwarts… the next Horcrux, its there!"

"Shouldn't you not be letting him in your head Harry?" Ron asked.

"Doesn't matter, already happened. Ravenclaw, something that belongs to her, its in Hogwarts and he will be going for it soon…"

"You can't be thinking of going there before getting Hermione?" Draco said, arm still burning.

Harry looked torn. "I… I don't know. Hermione would want us to go after the Horcrux, but-"

"You _can't_ leave her!" Draco said

"Don't act as if you're the only one who cares about her, Malfoy. _We_ were the ones she cried with when _you_ called her names in school, and-" Draco had had enough. He left the room, before he heard the end of Harry's admonishment, and bounded up the stairs, slamming the door after entering his room. Before anyone could follow him, he locked himself in.

He realized that it was better if he went alone. He didn't have to think of anyone but himself, and because he was still a Malfoy and carried the Dark Mark, he would be able to enter the Manor without being detected. The magic on the house was so loyal to the Malfoy family that it wouldn't reveal his identity as he entered, not even to his father.

He grabbed a long black cloak, indistinguishable from many that the Death Eaters wear, and a sample of the twins' Invisi-taffy before apparating to the Manor grounds.

He appeared behind some large hedges on the east side end of the Manor gardens. He knew the grounds well from the years he spent exploring them as a child, when often his only playmates were the unfriendly garden gnomes that popped up from time to time. Whenever other children came over, it was always a formal affair, and so he had grown accustomed to making up games he could play by himself like 'adventurer' or 'magical beast hunter.' He found the small semi-secret pathway that led directly into the inner gates, and popped the disillusionment candy in his mouth.

He grimaced as he chewed. He needed to tell Fred and George they needed to work on the taste. At this stage in development, it reminded him of the Bertie Botts moldy sock flavor. He felt a tingling sensation in his stomach after a few seconds, and looked down to find that his midsection had already disappeared.

By the time he found his way into the manor, the only way anyone could tell Draco was there was if he made large movements, when the air around warped like a ripple in a pond. Otherwise, he was unnoticeable. He walked slowly and quietly up the stairs, holding his breath as he heard voices turning the corner to descend. He recognized them as Nott and Travers - both big, hulking brutes who took up much of the width of the stairs as they made their way down.

Draco pushed himself flat against the wall, and if he could, he would have willed his heart to stop beating. For a moment he thought he felt Travers' eyes find his own, but the two Death Eaters went right by him without even pausing.

Fuck the taste, this taffy was incredible.

He wasn't on his way to his room, rather he followed the familiar path to Snape's quarters in the south wing. Draco carefully pulled out his wand to temporarily let down the wards surrounding it, and looked both ways down the hall before opening the door and slipping inside. After his many meetings with his former professor when they were working together, Snape had allowed him special access to his quarters if he needed it. Snape would be alerted to his presence, and they could meet in private.

The taffy wore off before Snape responded to Draco's arrival. When he stepped into his bedroom, he found Draco sitting at his desk, waiting for him with worried eyes.

"You were a fool to come," Snape said without greeting.

"Where's Hermione?" Draco asked with similar courtesy.

"She's in the dungeons," Snape replied. "Bellatrix has only interrogated her once so far, and she gave nothing away." There was no mistaking the pain that clouded Draco's eyes. Snape pretended he didn't see anything, and continued. "You risk all I have done to keep you safe so you can come crawling back here? Has Potter's influence pushed you back to the ignorant self-sacrificing boy you were before?"

"Potter has nothing to do with this," Draco said, voice icy.

"Potter has _everything_ to do with this, which war are you fighting?"

"The one against the Dark Lord. He will not hurt Hermione again, Bella will not-"

"Your aunt will be a cold hearted killer, no matter who her current plaything is. Now if you don't want that to be _you_ yet again, you have to leave, now."

"NO!" He said sharply. "I want to get Hermione, and get out _alive_. She is important to our cause, and we need her to bring down the Dark Lord. She is more intelligent than any of the rest of our lot back there…"

"Important to _us_, or important to _you_, Draco?"

Draco eyes flashed. "Does it matter? It was my fault she was captured, it is my responsibility to bring her back."

"It does, Draco. It _does matter_. If you keep acting on guilt you will die, you need more than that."

Draco shifted his feet, and let out a breath, then took out a small object from his cloak and handed it to his mentor. It had been safely stored there, out of sight, since he woke up in Grimmauld place.

Snape fingered the item. "This won't work again," he said, tracing the carvings on the side of his seal.

"I don't expect it to," Draco said. "I wanted to bring it back to… to thank you." The words were unsure, but Snape could identify a serious gravity in the tone. The dark haired man looked at him then for some time, taking in his light features and determined face.

"I am just like you," Snape said. His voice was slick, and articulated like he had put great thought into each word. "We are both selfish at our core, and I don't know if we deserve praise for anything we've done… My hope is that you understand that. And that when you make your choices, you make them in light of that fact. You must choose your next steps with full knowledge of why you choose them."

"I… Yes."

"The guards are smallest in number in half an hour. If you go then, you have the best chance of getting her out. Now, I cannot give you another portkey, but I do have this." Snape opened a drawer, and handed him a small red ball he pulled from inside, about the size of a snitch. It glowed and swirled like it had something alive stuck inside, trying to escape. Draco wrapped his fingers around it, and felt its warmth radiating out. "That is a powerful piece of magic, Draco. It warps time around it when you break the glass. With it, you cannot interfere with those moving at a different speed than you, but as long as you are in physical contact with Miss Granger, you will be in the same time stream. As you will be breaking it, you will be moving faster than those around you, and this will allow you the freedom to get out."

The sphere seemed to grow heavier in Draco's hand, and he carefully placed it in his cloak pocket.

"I cannot go down there with you, you must understand," Snape said. "You have your reasons for continuing, as I have mine."

"Thank you, sir," Draco said.

Snape gave him a curt nod. "I will be going now. Stay here and wait for the right time." He waited for a moment before opening the door. "And Draco, keep Miss Granger close."

"I will," Draco insisted, but Snape had already closed the door behind him.

After 30 excruciating minutes of pacing around Snape's rooms, he finally made his way down to the cellar dungeons. Snape had been correct in his timing, and only had to dodge the path of one Death Eater on his way down. When he finally reached the cellar stairs, he stopped behind the corner assess the strength and number of the guards posted outside. He heard two talking.

"... she's Potter's mudblood, that's why she bites like that."

"Nah, I hear she's a fuckin' tease. But Potter can't live without her so I reckon he'll be on his way to get her back real soon."

"Not before I get a chance at her…"

"Don't worry 'bout that. The Dark Lord might give you a go at her once Potter's dead…"

Draco felt sick. He didn't remember the names of the stupid oafs out there, so many of them had the same brutish mentality. He forced his face to slip back into the emotionless mask he was used to wearing when he had walked these halls, took a deep breath, and stepped around the corner.

The two guards noticed him, but reacted slowly like they were confused. They must have been used to seeing Draco around the Manor before, and their hesitation in drawing their wands against someone they knew to be - at least a former - fellow Death Eater meant it was easy for Draco to stun them. They fell easy victim to Draco's stunning spell and dropped to the ground before they could utter a counter curse.

He stepped over the figures, and found his way down into the dark. His heart beat faster when he heard whimpering coming from across the expanse of the dungeon.

"No… please, no…" It was Hermione's voice, pained and weak, and Draco's heart dropped. He could hear the sounds of bodies against stone, and the distinct sound of ripping cloth. She was crying. "Stop… please…"

"_Lumos_." He raised his wand over his head so he could finally see her and the figure of a man on the floor in the corner. The Death Eater was holding Hermione down, and she was writhing in his grasp. Draco felt a distinct constriction of his chest, and it was yet again hard for him to breathe. When the man reacted to the light, and started to stand, searching for his wand, Draco pointed his wand and didn't think.

"_Avada Kedavra_." A green light shot from Draco's wand, and the man was dead.

Hermione reacted slower, pulling herself from underneath the fallen figure, and running to the spot where Draco stood.

"Oh, Godric…" she gasped. She was shaking and crying, but she still stood on her own two feet. "Draco…" Just as she reached him, they heard a slow, lonely clap coming from the direction of the stairs.

Draco whipped around, and came face to face with Bellatrix. She had a wicked smile on her face, as she continued her slow applause. "Congratulations, nephew. You finally did it yourself. I am so _very_ proud of you." Her hands stilled and she pulled her wand out. Draco stepped instinctively in front of Hermione, who was still wandless and relatively defenseless.

"Maybe," Bellatrix continued. "The Dark Lord will be so inclined to give you some… time… with the mudblood yourself. Of course you'll have to share… but the spoiled brat you are, you were never very good with that." Her voice sank from wicked teasing, to dangerous, and reminded Draco of a cat closing in on its prey. "Maybe you need some more lessons."

Bellatrix shot a series of spells at the two of them. He ducked, and fought back, but he was afraid that Hermione would get caught in the crossfire.

"_Protego!_" He shouted, and ran toward the stairs.

"Wordless, Draco…" Called Bellatrix. A rebounding curse hit the stone by Draco's head, and knocked them back on their feet.

"Hold on tight," Draco said, and grabbed Hermione's hand in his. Her fingers responded where her voice didn't. With his other hand, he threw a curse at Bellatrix, before grabbing Snape's glowing red ball, and smashing it at his feet.

The sensation was unlike one he had ever experienced. It was somewhere between apparating in slow motion and falling - his legs felt like they were being squeezed through a tube, and his ears were popping. Hermione wobbled, but stayed standing. Draco steadied her, and then took off running, with Hermione keeping pace, hands still linked. They passed Bellatrix, who from their perspective looked as if she was moving in slow motion, anger written clearly across her features. Running felt sort of like flying with time moving like it was. He almost couldn't feel the ground beneath his feet, and because he knew the layout of the Manor so well, Draco traced their path on autopilot.

They passed three other Death Eaters, who were stuck in their poses and didn't seem to notice as Draco and Hermione ran by. They finally reached the door to the gardens, and then the gate, and as they passed the line of the Manor's grounds time caught up with them. The sudden noise and gravity of normal time hit him hard, and Hermione wobbled again. Draco held her up, and as soon as he glanced at Hermione to see if she was still okay, he apparated them back to Grimmauld place.

* * *

A/N: I know what you're thinking... _finally some action!_ Yeah, I know, I make people talk to much.


	8. Chapter 7: Phoenix

**Chapter 7: Phoenix**

When they arrived, sweaty and out of breath, back at the Order's headquarters, Draco and Hermione collapsed on the coach of the living room. Hermione had not yet let go of Draco's hand, and Draco didn't know if he would let her if she tried.

"Are you hurt?" Draco asked Hermione. She shook her head. She was still crying, but they were silent tears now that made lines in the dust that had accumulated on her face.

"If he did anything to you-"

"Draco stop, I'm… you weren't too late…"

"I should have gotten to you faster," Draco said with strain in his voice. Hermione shook her head again.

"You came," she said. "You risked your life for me, and although I think you shouldn't have risked anything I can't help but be grateful to you."

"I-"

"Where the FUCK were- bloody hell- 'mione?" Ron stood looking dumbfounded. He was stuck somewhere between angry and extremely happy, and he didn't know which to express.

He eventually chose angry first.

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! You went off alone like that? You could have killed her, we were about to after your stupid arse and then where would we be?" His chest was rising and falling sharply, and his hands were balled into fists. The noise was great enough that the other occupants of the house came running.

"Hermione!" Harry said, and ran to hug her. She accepted his arms around her, and Draco visibly stiffened. He wanted to say it was from Ron's verbal assault, but after what he had just seen, he couldn't stand anyone touching her.

"What-"

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said, voice soft. "I'm back and we're okay, so everyone can stop yelling."

Lupin and Tonks, who had arrived to the room with Harry, looked at each other.

"Hermione," said Tonks. "Come upstairs with me, I'll heal any injuries you have, and you need some rest." Hermione didn't argue. She simply gave Draco a meaningful look, before dropping his hand and following Tonks out of the room. Lupin turned to Draco.

"That was immature and dangerous, and I think you understand that."

"She was being tortured," Draco said. "I _know_ what that's like with Bella. But… it was worse…" he shut his mouth before he said any more. He wouldn't do that to Hermione.

"I know your heart was in the right place." Draco almost laughed, remembering his talk with Snape. "But you could have cost the Order dearly if you were to have failed." Draco understood that, but he would not regret his choice to go alone.

"How did you get in?" Fred asked.

"Pretty much the normal way. Surprising, isn't it? You would have expected my father learned to disown me by now." Draco's tone was dry. He looked up at the twins. "Your taffy worked by the way. But you seriously need to work on that taste."

Fred and George both gave a hearty chuckle, and offered their hands. Draco accepted the two handshakes. "We take it back, you _do_ have more guts than us."

"What about Snape?" Ron asked. "Did you leave him for the Death Eaters-"

"Don't pretend you worry about his wellbeing," Draco snapped. "I didn't compromise Snape's position, the Order's secrets are safe."

Ron was still seething silently in the corner, but Harry looked at him a bit more kindly. "Thank you," he said simply.

"I want to see her," Draco said, looking to Lupin.

"If she wants it, I won't stop you."

Draco thanked him, and ran up the steps. He saw Fred and George grab their little brother as he attempted to follow him up, and he was yet again grateful to the two. He climbed the stairs two at a time, and nearly ran into the door as he reached it to knock.

"Come in," came Tonks' welcome from inside, and he opened the door. Hermione sat with a mug of tea in her hands, face clean of tears. Tonks got up from her chair beside the bed, and patted Draco on the shoulder. "I'll leave you two then."

"Thank you," Draco said. "For helping."

"I should be thanking you, shouldn't I? Then again, because of the stunt you pulled, I won't and we'll call it even." She closed the door behind her when she left.

Draco took Tonks' seat, and looked at Hermione, unable to find words.

"Hey," he said dumbly.

"Hey." Hermione responded with a half smile. She scooted to the side of her bed, and pulled down the covers of one side. "Come up," she said, patting the space next to her. Draco hesitated. "I just don't want to be alone right now."

Draco understood, and mirrored the actions that Hermione had done that other night. He pulled her close, relishing the warmth of her body, and they stared at the empty room together in silence.

"It was stupid of you to get me," she said after some time.

"I wouldn't change my actions."

"Because it worked… what if it didn't."

"We don't have to think about it," He found her hand, and laced his fingers with hers. He could still smell the dampness of the Manor in her hair, but it was mixed with a floral tone that ran deeper. The smell of a warm spring day. "I am not a good person-"

"Draco, don't-"

"No, Hermione, listen. I'm not good like Harry is, or Lupin and Tonks are, or even like Ron is. I'm a selfish prick from a terrible family who just happens to disagree with their politics. I was moved by fear and guilt, but never by anything _good_." Draco started to play with Hermione's fingers. He wanted to memorize their touch, their softness. How they moved next to his. "I spoke to Snape before I found you. And he made me see… I… I think _you're_ the first thing good that I'm fighting for. I went after you because I was selfish and only cared about if I would see you again."

Draco's eyes left their hands, and found the deep brown of Hermione's that were already fixed on him. They were dark and round and kind, and his heart ached for her.

And suddenly he could feel her lips on his, softer and gentler than her fingers. It was a chaste and timid kiss, butterfly wings and then they were gone. He noticed Hermione's eyes were full of tears again.

"You're crying… I'm sorry, that was-"

"Draco, you're an idiot." And she kissed him again. It was stronger and lingered longer, but all Draco could feel was how yielding it was, and how sweet it tasted. He held her close, and breathed in that smell of springtime. "Don't leave me tonight," Hermione insisted, resting her head on Draco's shoulder.

"I won't," he promised. He watched her until her breathing evened, and her face relaxed in slumber.

* * *

Hermione woke twice in the night, crying and calling out. Both times, Draco hugged her and told her she was home, and safe, and no one would touch her. She clung to him like a lifeline, and he told her to go back to sleep. He kissed her forehead, and whispered to her. He told her that her hair smelled like wildflowers and felt like the beds of springy moss that you went searching in the woods for as a kid. He told her that he was scared, but her voice made him stronger, that her touch made him calmer. He told her he wasn't sure what good meant yet, but somehow he would understand if she would teach him. He knew she wouldn't remember those whispers in the morning, but he kept talking because it made him feel better too.

* * *

When morning finally came after that night that lasted forever, Draco brought a mug of tea and some biscuits up to Hermione for her breakfast. She had awoken just before he had gone down to the kitchen, so when he returned she was patiently sitting up, pillow propped up behind her, reading a book.

"Research already?" He commented, setting the plate down and handing her the mug. "I think you deserve a little more rest before you worry about that."

"It calms me down if I keep working," she explained. "Keeps my mind off other things…"

Draco's heart pounded. _Did she mean their kiss?_ She had asked him to stay, but she was so tired and stressed, maybe in the morning she had regretted it.

Hermione saw the tension in his face, and she tried to reassure him. "No, I mean the war, not-"

"You're awake Hermione?" Harry stepped through the open door of her room, carrying the black box that contained the Horcrux. He placed it down on the table, giving it an uneasy glare before approaching the side of her bed.

"I am. And I'm perfectly well." She gave Harry a smile that allowed him to relax and return one to her in turn.

"Good. I should have known, if you're already reading. I thought you…" He looked at Draco. "... two… could help me with this." He motioned to the box on the table.

"Bring it here," Hermione said, and Harry relocated it to her bed. It sunk down in the plushy covers, the dark black color contrasting with the white of the sheets. "It looks like a safekeep box," she commented after examining it, remembering what Lupin had told her when they were looking at Draco's memories.

Draco looked it over. "No," he said. "It does look like it, but the Dark Lord wouldn't use one for something as precious as a Horcrux. He wouldn't risk it being destroyed by a dim witted follower curious to see what was inside."

"Still, it would most likely not harm it even if it was a true box. There are only a few things that can destroy a Horcrux," Harry said.

"Voldemort would want complete control over it though. He wouldn't leave it up to chance, in case the safekeep was one of the things that could destroy it. He would need a different type of insurance… I don't think it's blood magic but…" Hermione turned the box over, noticing a small inlaid snake, a sort of signature in the corner. "Harry, can you try parseltongue?"

"Do you really think that'll work again?" He asked, skeptical. "He knows I can speak it now, just as he can."

"And he was also arrogant enough to leave it in a house that Tonks and I could get in," Draco said. "There's nothing to lose."

Harry shrugged, and then proceeded to make the most unsettling, guttural hissing noises. The only time he had heard Harry speak parseltongue before was in their second year dueling club. This time though, not only had Harry's voice dropped, but the words seemed more pointed and angry. Like he was just having a conversation with the snake in their duel, but now he was fighting against this box.

It clicked, shuddered, and opened. Inside, was a small golden cup that looked innocent enough, but seemed to suck the warmth out of the air. The three stared at it for a moment, not moving.

"That was easier than I thought," Harry said. "We don't have a way to destroy it, though." He turned to Hermione in question, as if he was making sure she didn't have a basilisk fang tucked under the covers.

"I think I can…" Draco said. Harry and Hermione looked at him expectantly. "Well, you said before when we were doing research that basilisk venom works to destroy it, right? So, in my reading, I believe it was in a Owle Bullock text, I came across a passage that referred to basilisk venom in the same class of 'magiks of absolute death' as fiendfyre."

"Fiendfyre? But that is so hard to control, I don't want to risk it unless we're sure," Hermione said. "I don't even know the incantation for that."

"I do, and I know I can control it."

"How…?"

Draco gave Hermione a look that told her she shouldn't need to ask. If he was forced to kill, it wasn't far off that he was also forced to learn other forms of deadly magic. Harry looked uneasy, glancing at the glinting Horcrux in its case.

"I don't know-"

"I can produce it, and it will only affect the cup," he assured them. "The faster we destroy it, the faster we can kill the Dark Lord. Put it on the ground, and step back." Harry did so hesitantly, lifting the cup from the box and stood it on the wooden floor, then fell back to Hermione's side next to the bed. He fingered his wand in his pocket, although he had little idea what he would do if the spell went wrong. The two watched Draco as he raised his wand, focusing on the Horcrux, before quietly uttering the curse. "_Daemaduro." _

A singular phoenix made of fire emerged from the tip of Draco's wand, and flew directly at the cup. It was only the size of a cat, but had a fierce face and pointed claws, meaner than Harry remembered Fawkes. It circled once around the cup, before engulfing it in flames. The Horcrux glowed and shook as the fiery phoenix overtook it, before shattering into many pieces.

The fire didn't stop then, however. The phoenix continued to twist and screech like it was in pain, swirling faster and faster in on itself, where the cup used to stand. Hermione looked up at Draco, worried.

Draco looked gone. His hadn't moved from the position he had been in when casting the spell, but his face was twisted in anguish, silent tears streaming from eyes looking at something in the distance that Hermione couldn't see.

"Draco, stop," she said, but he did not hear her. The phoenix did not grow in size, but Hermione still felt desperate. She didn't know what was happening to the wizard, and she was powerless to stop the fire if he couldn't do it himself. "You've done it, its destroyed, please stop."

"Malfoy…" Harry tried. "Malfoy, snap out of it."

The phoenix raced faster, and Draco was still standing unmoving, though his breathing grew heavy and ragged. The two others could feel the heat in the room growing, and they knew it would only be minutes before the wooden interior would burst into flame.

Hermione stood silently and determined, and made her way to Draco's side. Harry tried to pull her back, but she wouldn't let him. "Draco," she said, reaching for his arm. "Please, come back."

When her hand touched his exposed skin, his breath caught, and he immediately extinguished the fire without another sound. The phoenix disappeared, and Draco's eyes refocused, but he would still not look at Hermione or Harry. He stared at the open spot where his fiery bird had just been. His breath hitched again in what sounded like a cough, but may have been a sob, and Draco walked out of the room without a word, slamming the door behind him.

"What was that," Harry asked, motioning at the door where Draco had just exited.

"I should have known," Hermione said, kneeling down to examine the shards of broken cup. A black viscous liquid oozed from every facet and she tried not to get any on her fingers. "You remember what happened to Ron with the necklace. Well, Voldemort's soul wouldn't have been killed without a proper fight. Draco was fighting something."

"What was it? We could see what Ron could see with the necklace, but this time he looked like something was… inside _him._"

"There were different influences on the one destroying the Horcrux every time," Hermione said, standing and glancing nervously at the door, then back at Harry. "Even if it is only part of his torn up soul, Voldemort knows how to manipulate. With us and the necklace… with Ginny and the diary… even Dumbledore…" She wrung her hands, and looked toward the door again.

"You should go talk to him," Harry said. It was more for the benefit of easing Hermione's mind than for any growing fondness toward Draco. Hermione knew this, but still gave a small smile of thanks as she made her way out of the room. She took a look at the still scattered pieces of the cup and stopped.

"The cup…"

"Don't worry about it, I'll deal with it."

She smiled again, and left the room. Harry, in fact, had no idea how to deal with it, and went to fetch Lupin to help him clean the mess and also to explain to him what had happened.

* * *

Hermione went straight to Teddy's room, and she found Draco standing over the boy's crib, silent and stoic. She was glad to be learning his habits, one of which was hiding in the baby's room when he felt uncomfortable. She didn't often follow him because she wanted him to have that private space, but he was different this time. It looked as if he was keeping his distance from Teddy, watching but not touching his finger to the boy's cheek, or holding him as she saw him do before. Today, he stood with one foot back, as if he was ready to run if he needed to. His limbs were tense, and his breathing was stiff and artificial. Like every breath was a little sigh.

"Draco?" Hermione called softly, afraid that if she startled him, he'd jump off like a cornered deer. He didn't retreat, but he also didn't respond to her call though she could tell that he heard her. "No Quidditch talk today?" She tried again.

He shook his head slowly, keeping his eyes on Teddy.

"I am so selfish," he said, taking a step back to put even more distance between him and the baby. "I could have destroyed everything. I thought I was in control, but… Bellatrix is right isn't she? All I really wanted was approval."

"From Harry? Or from me?"

"Both of you… all of you here… that I'm worth something more than what my family shaped me to be. Before, when I was sending those letters… it felt like rebellion, like I was finally breaking free of the fucked up life I was being forced into. But, rebellion is a direct effect of that life, isn't it? I wasn't being original, I was just being a naive fucked up teenager. _This_ though," he motioned around him. It was the house, the people in it, and his last month of actions that he was referring to. "This felt like a decision, until I realized I was just bloody dumped here too."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You know what? We all were too. Dumped here. None of us chose this war for ourselves, but we go on because we must." He finally looked at her, but could not keep her gaze. "What did you see Draco? What did the cup show you?"

"I don't want to-"

"What did you see!?" Hermione said, pressing him harder. "This isn't about your bloody pride. Horcruxes mess with everyone's minds. They twist and mutilate reality until you can hardly recognize it anymore but it _isn't real._ Tell me so we can fix it!"

"NO! It was all true. I knew it all already-"

"You may still be affected, we need to talk about it, you need to-"

"STOP Hermione, you don't know… you can't-"

"Draco! You-"

Draco moved faster than Hermione had a chance to react. Suddenly, she was up against the wall, and Draco was on top of her, gripping her arms so tight they hurt. He kissed her then, hard. It was a biting, angry, desperate sort of kiss. He nipped at her bottom lip, and his tongue pushed into her mouth. His mouth owned hers for those few moments, before he jumped back like he was shocked. Hermione didn't know what to say, her skin felt hot and her mouth was searching for more, but her mind had not caught up with her body. She looked for answers in Draco's expression.

He looked terrible. He brought his shaking hands and inspected them like he didn't believe they were his, and ran a finger against his swollen mouth.

"I… Fu-fuck," he stuttered. He took a couple more steps back, while his eyes darted from Hermione, to Teddy's crib, then to the door. Turning on his heel, he exited the room before Hermione had a chance to stop him.

* * *

Draco apparated to an old forest, about 25 kilometers north of the manor. He hadn't meant to travel there, and perhaps he was being careless for returning so close to Death Eater headquarters, but his wand had just taken him here. The place was one of the few from his childhood that were filled with pleasant memories. His mother would bring him here since the time he could walk and let him explore the woods and, for once, act like a child. He remembered climbing the trees, and seeing how high he could jump from. Each new branch was a challenge, and for those seconds in the air he pretended he was on a broom, flying. His mother was terrified, of course, but she kept bringing him back because Draco thinks that she wanted that childhood for him even more than he had.

Draco wished he had his broom with him. He hadn't flown in over a year.

Narcissa Malfoy wasn't the most accepting of people. She held the same prejudices that drove the Dark Lord to kill, and she truly believed in the poise and grace that the elite class should embody. Those same notions of blood supremacy and classism weighed heavily on the mind of Draco as he grew older, but he would nevertheless love his mother dearly. She would sacrifice anything for her son, and although she was discriminatory, she was never cruel. Everything and everyone had their place in Mrs. Malfoy's mind, from muggleborns – who would never understand, and so would never truly fit into the wizarding world – to the setting of cutlery at the dinner table. As Draco's world went to shit, Narcissa had tried to weather the storm in a teacup. It had not worked as she had planned, but Draco was grateful for that little peace and consistency that he felt when he was with his mother.

In the wilds of that forest, however, Narcissa had allowed him to run free. He could play and get dirty because that was natural in the setting. She had even laughed with him at times, letting her stoic demeanor go, taking off her shoes, and ran through the forest with him. Once, when Draco was about seven years old, he had chased a rabbit through the forest with such gusto, that when he tripped on a loose stone and fell, his magic not only stopped his fall in midair, but also caught the rabbit mid-jump. The poor animal was so confused as it tried to keep running, but the struggles only made it float up into the air until it was stuck in a tree. It was so terrified, that it had actually let Draco climb up and bring it down by hand. Narcissa had laughed so hard tears were streaming down her face, as she took the bunny from Draco's hands before he jumped from the lowest branch. She had petted the still startled animal softly, before letting it go again. Draco was so happy to see his mother's smile.

Now, Draco was a more destructive force. His unchecked magic burst from his wand in angry slashes, breaking limbs off trees and scaring birds into the air. He was angry at himself, and at everything that had to do with this sodding war. He had risked everything to protect Hermione, but all he could do was put her in more danger, and take advantage of her. He was just like them, and it sickened him.

The cup lashed out at him, the moment his fiery phoenix touched its surface. It screamed for life, and the screaming reminded him of the ones he had heard before. Jessica's, Hermione's, his mother's, _his_….

He could see them all dead. It would always be his fault, and he couldn't do anything about it. He didn't _want_ to kill, he didn't _want_ to feel sick when he did. It all happened anyway, all the same. He was nothing more than that sad, scared, lonely little boy being admonished by his father for being too weak and too sensitive. He knew he wanted control over the endless storm; he would take any control he could get his hands on.

The closest thing at hand to take control over was the very worst thing that he could have chosen.

Draco kicked a stone, hard. It hurt his toe, but he didn't care. He wandered down the path he had taken with his mother every time they came, down to the pond where ducks would come and beg for food. He was, embarrassingly, afraid of the ducks when he was younger. They would quack and step forward, expecting a prize for their patience. Then quack and tilt their heads, wondering why there was no food yet. They would give him shifty eyes, then quack and step closer. Draco hated how persistent they were, and how they nipped at his feet when he didn't give them what they wanted. But somehow, he still liked the pond, if only because it was part of this forest where he and his mother shared secret smiles and stories.

The ducks weren't there this time, so he just sat near the water, and stared down at the reflection of the trees and the rocks. Sometimes there was a ripple that distorted the image, and he knew there was a fish under the surface he could not see. That calmed him, the little reminders from the fish that he wasn't alone. Otherwise, it would just be him, and his tumultuous thoughts.

* * *

Hermione woke early the next morning. She still hadn't seen Draco after the… she didn't know how to describe whatever that was. She wasn't put off by the forwardness of the kiss, but she knew that Draco regretted it, and also regretted the incident with the fiendfyre. She walked past his room, but noted that it was still warded and locked. Most likely silenced as well, and she couldn't see if Draco was alright. She just hoped that he wouldn't stay locked up in there for too long.

"What happened?" Harry had asked as she had wandered back to her room. He and Lupin had carefully cleared the remains of the cup by then.

"He's mad… I think," she had replied.

"You think?"

"He won't talk to me."

They had more work to do, and whether Draco thought he was a liability or not, or if his pride became too great for him to want to take risks, he was a valuable asset to the operation. An angry Draco wouldn't listen to her arguments, and they would get a lot less research done. And, as a little more selfish aside, angry Draco was a lot less fun to debate with. She relished those intellectual swordfights, and it was one of the only things that could keep away the demons in her memories.

Even in a day without seeing him, she missed him. She couldn't believe she had grown so attached. She touched her fingers to her lips, and wondered how good of an idea this all was.

As she walked into the kitchen, she was startled to find Draco sitting at the table, like he was waiting for her. His feet were up – his shoes covered in dirt and mud, with little bits of leaf sticking out of the soles – and he was nursing a cup of tea. He hardly recognized her entrance, and only lifted his eyes heavily to hers when she scraped a chair across the floor to sit down.

"Where were you?" She asked, pointing at his dirtied shoes. "That is disgusting by the way, don't put them on the table. I thought you were in your room?"

Draco put his feet down, and Scourgified the table. "I wanted you to think that. I couldn't have anyone following me-"

"What did you do?" Hermione looked slightly panicked. It wasn't accusatory, she wasn't in the position to be judging his actions, but she was worried for him.

"Nothing, nothing. I just needed to be alone." He put his cup down between them, like he was setting up a barrier he didn't wish to cross.

"So you… climbed a mountain? Were you out all night?"

"I only came back because I was getting cold, and I realized I had nowhere else to go…"

Hermione's faced morphed from panicked to troubled. "You… don't want to stay here anymore?" The risk of getting close to someone was always having your heart broken, she knew. Now was better than any time, before anything else could happen. "I'm sure other safe houses would take you-"

Draco laughed, but the curve of his lips didn't come close to reaching his eyes. "I would like to see how they would handle me at the Burrow. I… _you_ don't want me to stay." It was almost a question, but not quite. A statement phrased so he could make an easy exit, and it would be done.

"No, I mean yes..." Hermione said quickly. Her heart had spoken before she had time to think it through, and her face turned red. "I mean, we all need you here, for information and for research, and… and I need you." She finished very quietly. "I couldn't sleep at all last night."

"Well, we had that in common," he replied. There he was, selfish again. He hadn't thought that she wouldn't be able to keep the nightmares away without potions, or some feeling of safety. He sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

It was a loaded apology, and Hermione wasn't sure what he was referring to.

"I'm still figuring myself out," Draco continued. "Where I stand on everything. I'm not like Harry, able to be so sure and so determined that he doesn't question who is leading him where. I have always questioned that, ever since my father came home with dark circles under his eyes and started drinking himself to sleep. Ever since _you_ were beating me in every class and showing me you were the opposite of everything I was told a mudblood was." He played with the mug on the table. Hermione didn't know he had thought about her in anything but the context of a rivalry during school.

"I always thought if I tried hard enough, I could prove that I belonged," Hermione explained. "To people like you mostly, but also to myself."

"You did." It pained Draco to remember how much of a prick he was at Hogwarts. "It wasn't just the cruelty or the death itself that made me turn against the Dark Lord, it was the manipulation. The lies, the fear, the torture. All of that is just to make sure you were a pawn and you can only move in that one direction. But it didn't make _sense. _YOU didn't make sense in that fantasy they were trying to feed us. All logic was ignored and I was treading water in a world where no direction was up. Then, when I wanted to make my own decisions, but they were all taken away from me." Hermione reached out to him, but he withdrew his hand from the table.

"I took that away from you yesterday," he said, looking down. "That is the thing I care about, isn't it? The Dark Lord can make us feel pain, and preach about purity, but as long as we have our minds… our thoughts… our actions are our own."

"You didn't-"

"I did, Hermione. I forced myself on you, put you in dangerous situations you had no way of getting yourself out of… Your mind is… its beautiful Hermione," _You're beautiful, Hermione. _He was blushing hard. "I would never want to take that - your power to make choices - away from you, then I'm just as bad as _them_." He spit out the last word.

"No," Hermione said, smiling sweetly at his compliment. Her voice was soft and calm, and Draco couldn't interrupt her. "You are making choices now that they would never even think about. You question and discuss, even if it would have been easier for you to accept and be played."

"For a while, that _was_ my logic. I told myself I would survive, because that is what I had control over. I couldn't help anyone but myself. It was too late before I realized that was exactly how a lot of those oafs thought."

"It wasn't too late." Hermione's brown eyes were determined. Her hair was bushy, and gave away the tossing and turning she was doing all night. It stuck out at odd angles, but still managed to frame the soft features of her face. Her lightly curved nose, and pink supple lips… Draco couldn't help but indulge himself in that beauty. He caught himself.

"It would have always been too late in some way for me."

"You can't change what happened in the past. But now, here, you have all the power to choose your path. It is not too late for that." She reached up slowly to cup his cheek in her hand. He leaned into the touch. "Now no more moping, we need to start working. I need you in top shape because we are going over Zygmunt Budge's work today and he's as incomprehensible as he is genius."

A smile threatened to tug at the corners of Draco's mouth. Back to the books. Maybe he was imagining things, but it was almost if her hair grew bigger and more wild when she started talking about her research. She smiled, and pulled her hand away from his face, brushing her hand against his bicep before holding his hand.

"I _know_ you have some strong opinions on potioneers, so this could be fun," she said, tilting her head and giving him a mischievous grin. She was a force. _Oh godric, she's attractive. _

"It's always fun arguing with you."

* * *

A/N: Poor Draco, nothing is easy for him. Thank you thank you to everyone reading/reviewing/following!

_"The sad truth is that most evil is done by people who never make up their minds to be good or evil" _(Hannah Arendt, The Life of the Mind)


	9. Chapter 8: Owl

**Chapter 8: Owl **

Ron was yelling again. It was quite commonplace, but it still set Draco's teeth on edge. He sat in the living room, taking notes on a large, dull text Hermione had left him, but he couldn't concentrate with the angry bellows coming from the floor above him. _Why didn't they just put a silencing charm on their bloody room..._

Although Hermione had forgiven his actions, and his temporary escape, Draco still felt uneasy. Something big would happen soon, he knew. Hermione spent more time with Harry and Ron - they were still not entirely comfortable planning with him - talking behind closed doors in hushed whispers (except for Ron's outbursts). He and Hermione had done research, and talked strategy for much of the morning, but as soon as her friends got restless, she followed them up the stairs. He was afraid that they would disappear in the night, back to the three of them alone like they were before.

He would keep reminding himself that if it were important for him to know, Hermione would seek him out. Still, it felt like punishment for his rash behavior. He dove into the text again, when the house quieted down again.

"What's wrong?" Tonks was suddenly standing in front of him. Her hair was turquoise today.

"Nothing," he said. She didn't buy it, he knew she wouldn't.

"A paper crane flew into me in the hall."

"Oh… right." Draco had a strange habit of making paper cranes out of discarded paper. It focused his hands on a task when his mind was racing. "I thought I was just throwing them out."

Tonks looked up, and pointed to several others floating around the ceiling. "You need to be a bit more observant than that if you want to keep fighting dark wizards." Draco dropped his head, and waved his hand through the air. The cranes flew to the ground.

"I'll deal with it…"

"I'm not going to coddle you. You've been through enough to see how the world is, I know. You've seen different shit than the guys upstairs." Tonks sat down heavily on the couch beside Draco. She put a knee up, and turned toward him.

"I don't see how-"

"You killed a man two days ago, Draco. Don't you want to talk about it?" Draco raised an eyebrow at Tonks. "Hermione told me," she explained.

"I didn't want to talk about it with her," he said. "It doesn't matter anyway. As she said, it's done…"

"You should."

"Why would you-"

"I'm a bloody auror Draco, if you didn't remember. I've killed dark wizards, and I know how it feels to deal with that." She twisted again in her seat, picking up one of the fallen birds and letting it into the air again. "I'm not assuming how we deal with it will be the same, but let me try to help you."

Draco wanted to refuse, but Tonks had a point. He hadn't dealt with it yet, but the only one he felt comfortable enough talking about it was Hermione. The twins were in and out of the house most of the time, and he wouldn't risk letting Harry or Ron find out what he had done. Tonks knew, and he could trust her, even if she didn't have Hermione's kind thoughtful eyes. Instead, his cousin carried with her the experience and wisdom of time in battle. Something more akin to what he had lived for the past few years.

"It was Macnair," Draco said. "He was a brute, but somehow he wormed and murdered his way into the inner circles of the Dark Lord. The world is better without him."

"Did you know who he was then?"

"When I killed him? No. I couldn't see his face until he was… until Hermione got away."

"So what he was doing-"

"NO!" Draco's eyes darkened. "We are not discussing that. It is not my nightmare to share."

"It isn't _only_ your nightmare. You must be honest with yourself, Draco. You must understand what made you make that decision. As an auror, we have objectives and targets. We kill when the success of the task depends on it, but not before."

"I don't know if I could have gotten out without it," Draco explained. "But really, another option didn't even enter my mind. After all that training with Bellatrix, I battle on instinct, or I die. Right then, I already knew I was a murderer, and if another kill could save Hermione, it would happen. I would be no different for it."

"_Every_ killing curse takes something from you." Tonks said with a heaviness, and Draco thought she sounded tired.

"I didn't realize the ministry was in the business of using unforgivables."

"Too many prisoners escaped before they were taken to Azkaban. It was all under the table, but aurors wouldn't be punished for the techniques they used if they worked. In a war, it really is amazing how similar you find both sides to be." Tonks lowered her voice, and inched slightly closer to Draco. "We can't all be like them." She motioned to the upper floor again. "All nobility and sacrifice. It is just so Gryffindor, isn't it? I say protect what you love, even if something gets broken in the process. Because what will there be left once all of this is done?"

Draco thought of Teddy, of course. Tonks would kill if it meant her baby would be safe. Draco knew he would fight for that little boy just as hard. And if he had already killed for Hermione...

"Can I keep this?" she asked, catching the crane that was left in the air.

"Of course," he said. "Take them all. And, er… thanks, Tonks."

She shrugged. "I didn't do anything." She left with a couple more paper cranes in her hands, and Draco was alone, staring down at his book once again. He had one more set of ears that would listen, and it was only recently he had seen how important that was. He realized he had a purpose in this war, and it wasn't just to make up for the past. He could see the future in Teddy, and in Hermione. He had to stop obsessing over what he had done, and needed to plan what he could do. He needed to talk to Hermione.

Draco gathered his strength, organized his things, and ventured up the stairs to Harry's room where the three Gryffindors were. When he approached, he could hear voices from inside, quiet but sharp. "A diadem? Are you sure Hermione?" "It must be that, it is the only object of Rowena Ravenclaw's that exists-" "We have no idea if it could even be Hogwarts…"

_A diadem… it must be the next Horcrux._ This time there was no hesitation, he knocked solidly on the door with confidence. Hermione answered it.

"Oh, Draco. Do you need something?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to go over something, but I overheard some of what you were talking about… you should really put up some silencing charms…" His tone was directed at Ron, and he returned a scowl. "Can I come in?"

"No-" Ron said at the same time Hermione said "Sure." Draco pretended he only heard Hermione.

"Do you know anything about the diadem?" Harry asked, after Hermione closed the door.

"Not about the potential of it being a Horcrux, but if it is, I know where it is in the castle."

"Where?"

"The room of requirement," Draco answered. "I know you've used the room before. The room where all the things are hidden." Harry nodded, but Ron looked suspiciously at Draco.

"How do you know?" Ron asked.

"I spent quite some time in there during sixth year," Draco said. "There was this tiara type thing on a pile near where I worked, and I always thought it looked familiar. Then again, a lot of garbage in there looks like something you've lost a long time ago. I just remembered though, it is the same one that Ravenclaw wears in her portraits."

"Will this be the same as at Gringotts? Would Voldemort have moved it once he knew we were looking for Horcruxes?" Hermione looked at Draco. _Ah, I guess I'm the resident expert on dark wizards..._

"I don't think he would have," Draco said. "The Dark Lord doesn't know we know what and where the next one is. Also, if he was hiding it somewhere that we have all had access to before, he must think we wouldn't be able to find the room. It would be more of a risk for him to ask the Carrows or Snape to bring it to him, because he might be the only one who knows where he hid it."

"I thi-"

"Merlin, would you just say his name?" Ron interrupted as Hermione had started to talk. "Bloody 'dark lord,' you think you'd still be working for him."

"Try living under the same roof as him for a year, and calling him by his name," Draco said cooly. "I will call him the Dark Lord, because that is how I referred to him when I spoke to him. My feelings for him are the same now as they were then, the name has no bearing on how much I hate him."

"I _think_," Hermione interjected, breaking off the argument. "Draco may be right. There is more risk to act than not to, so they are waiting on a move by our side before they attack."

"We can use that to our advantage," Harry said. "We have Snape, he can feed them false information about where we are looking, and then we can go to the castle unnoticed."

"We can't use him like that," Draco said. "If he's at Hogwarts most of the time, where would he have gotten that information? You are putting your friends that are still at school at risk." Harry furrowed his brows. Draco knew he was thinking about Ginny - Fred and George had mentioned that their sister was still in school, along with many others.

"Then we just have to go," Hermione said. "We have time on our side for now to prepare, but we should move quickly. As soon as we get into the school it will be all out war."

"We can get everyone at the Burrow," Ron suggested. "We can talk to Bill and Charlie, and get the rest of the Order over there."

"I'll talk to Lupin, and we can set up the floo," Harry said, motioning for Ron to follow him, and the two boys left the room. Hermione turned her attention back to making notes in an old book, her quill scratching away before she stopped to turn the page frowning, and flipping back to the previous one. It was a book Draco had seen many times before.

"Is that... Beedle the Bard?" He asked, motioning to the book in her hands. "When I said those dark arts books were like children's stories I didn't mean to actually go looking in them…"

Hermione smiled at Draco with her familiar warmth. "Dumbledore gave me this copy," she said fondly. "It was a clue. You know the story of the Three Brothers, I presume."

"Every kid who grows up in the wizarding world does."

"Well, we believe it is the origin of the Deathly Hallows, the Peverell brothers at least. Voldemort means to cheat death by gaining all three," Hermione said as she opened the book to the story.

"The Deathly Hallows…" Draco said. "I overhead a mention of a wand when I was at the manor, does the Dark Lord really possess _that_ wand?"

"The Elder Wand, yes, unfortunately we think so." She pointed to the page where Draco could see a symbolic inscription of, what he guessed to be, the Hallows.

"And the…" Draco searched his memory for the other powerful objects mentioned in the story. "The stone and the cloak… do we know where those are?"

"Harry owns the cloak, he always has. We know nothing about the stone."

"Potter _owns_ the… seriously?" Draco said in disbelief. "So is this what you've been whispering about?"

Hermione closed her book. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she said. "Harry and Ron, they… they don't hate you, but-"

"They don't trust me. I get it, I haven't done very much to prove it," Draco admitted.

"You got me out-"

"Behind their backs," Draco said, and shook his head. "Whatever it is, we have to work together if we want to end this. We should start up our dueling training again. You need to master those wandless spells, and I know I felt a bit rusty at the Manor…" He stopped himself.

"You can talk about it, you know," Hermione said. "I'm not fragile, so stop acting like Ron whenever he thinks I can't take it."

"I know you're not."

Draco knew she was right, but it wasn't just Hermione's reaction that kept him from talking about that night. It was his own guilt, however much he decided he wouldn't act on that feeling alone, it was still there like a beast in the shadows. Always ready to remind him of everything he'd done wrong. Also, he was afraid of how much she would associate those horrible memories with him. She'd been tortured, twice, in his own home. The place that he had grown up - he has memories of playing with a toy boomstick on the very floors that took Hermione's blood, which his own aunt had cut from her. It made him sick, and he avoided it for his own reasons.

Hermione handled things differently than he did. She had nightmares, she had fears, and she didn't hide that fact, but she was still studying and discussing their next action like it was just a move on a chessboard. He admired that courage, and that ability to keep her emotions in check. Draco put on a mask to deceive others of how he felt, even though those emotions drove so many of his actions. He was volatile, just like Snape had always accused him of being. Accused Harry of being as well. Hermione, however, wore her heart on her sleeve, but was careful to make the most logical, thoughtful steps. Her mind allowed her heart to seek its goal, and Draco was envious of that ability that seemed to come to her so naturally.

"You are stronger than I am," Draco said to her. He took her hand, and stepped closer, listening to the thudding of his heart and the heat that spread to his ears. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted it so badly, but he wouldn't make the first move this time. He needed to know that this is what Hermione wanted.

Hermione had to lift her eyes to meet Draco's. Something swam in his eyes. It was close to lust… but no, it was at the same very far from that lust she had seen in the Death Eater's eyes when she was captured. It was something different, that she couldn't put her finger on, but enthralled her all the same. She smelled his musky scent - like the embers of fire when had gone low after hours of comfortable reading beside it. She reached her hand up to finger his hair. It had turned a golden color from its usual blonde in the fading light through the window. It was soft, and Draco sighed contentedly.

As his eyelids fluttered shut, enjoying Hermione's gentle touch, Hermione stood on her toes and kissed him. It was more sure and steady than the first two times their lips had brushed, and she was enjoying taking the lead. Her hand steadied against his head, and pushed him closer. His mouth was warm and inviting, as he opened it to greet hers. It was like he was fire, always changing, always dangerous, but also warm, comforting, and beautiful. His mouth tasted like the fire, like that phoenix he had conjured.

She broke the kiss, and looked up at him, still playing with his hair.

"You know," she said. "Ginny and I discussed the possibility of you being part Veela while we were in school."

"Yes, and we were discussing if Potter was a vampire." Draco scoffed.

"Don't tease, you know how attractive you are."

Draco opened his mouth, but didn't know how to respond. Hermione's hand was still in his hair and it was distracting. "If purebloods won't even marry halfblood wizards, what makes you think a Malfoy would have married something that isn't even human?"

"I know, I know. But it also would have explained that insufferable air of superiority that you carried around with you then too." She smirked. "Fleur acts very similarly sometimes."

"Oh, thanks," he said, and decided to poke fun at her as well. "But you thought I was attractive."

"Come off it, you had girls all over you. You don't need me to tell you that. Of course, that was from far away for me. As soon as you were within earshot and I could hear your annoying voice I wanted to punch you more than kiss you."

He laughed. "You did. Quite well too. But you weren't the only one who wanted to, I think I scared most girls away - or if I didn't Crabbe or Goyle would do it for me."

Hermione made a face. "I can't believe you put up with them."

"I can't either. Trust me, you didn't see the worst of them. If it is bad being their enemy, it is so much worse when they think you're their friend."

"Yeah, they would make any girl run the other way."

"Not that I was that interested anyway," Draco confessed. "After fifth year I didn't exactly have much time for that, and…"

"And?" Hermione pushed.

"And."

Hermione crossed her arms, and raised her eyebrows. Draco sighed in defeat.

"And you. Glad to know I wasn't the only one who pined from afar…"

"Me?" Hermione said, and started to laugh. "I know you were putting on a show those last few years, but I can't imagine anything more than apathy. Really?"

"Don't bloody laugh, Hermione!" Draco said. "I really was you who showed me that blood supremacy was idiotic, and after I licked my wounds from having you beat me in every class, I realized how, well, attractive that intelligence is."

"I… er… really?" Hermione was genuinely flattered. She had always known, although sometimes grudgingly, that Draco was physically attractive, but he was telling her that he had liked _who she was_. She wanted to kiss him again.

Draco beat her to it this time, tilting her chin up and catching her mouth. He nibbled softly at her lips, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Hermione wanted to be closer, to feel his whole body against hers, get more of that addictive heat, the fire, that emitted from him. She pulled her arms around his neck, feeling his muscles connecting to his back, and noting how her body fit with his. She sighed into his mouth.

A voice suddenly came from the door, which Draco had only just realized was open for their whole exchange.

"Oi, Hermione are you-"

"-oh, nevermind carry on."

Hermione broke from Draco's arms, and turned around with wide eyes. "Please tell me that was only Fred and George."

"Yes," Draco said, pulling her back to him and giving her a small mischievous smile that echoed the twins'. "Don't worry, they won't tell." He leaned in to kiss her again.

* * *

Draco had stayed with Hermione that night, as he promised to try to keep her nightmares at bay. This time, though, it was the first time they both had truly slept, and Draco awoke confused to be in the arms of another. But her scent was the first thing that reminded him that it was safe, and she was safe, and life was okay, if only for that moment.

They were busy moving to the Burrow for most of the day, making sure they had the texts, potions, and people gathered together before they made their plans for Hogwarts. Again, Draco avoided the groups that gathered, opting to observe from the outskirts. He was grateful to the openness of the burrow's grounds that allowed him to escape to the outside like he hadn't been able to do at Grimmauld place.

He had been practicing offensive spells in a meadow for some time before some of the group finally caught up with him. Fred and George led, along with Hermione, Harry and Ron.

"You looked lonely, mate," Fred said. "Can we join?"

"Er..."

"We agreed that we all need the practice," Harry said. "We can do it DA style again."

"'Cept this time Draco's on our side," George added.

"Right…"

"_I'm_ Draco's partner." George took Draco by the arm and pulled him to the far end of the clearing. Fred did something similar in claiming Hermione. Ron and Harry set up closer to the Burrow. Draco looked for Hermione's reaction, but she just shrugged as she was led away.

Before he turned around, Draco was hit with a jelly-legs jinx. He wobbled to steady himself, but failed to stop himself from falling over onto the grass.

"You need to be quick on your feet, Malfoy," George said, ending the jinx and helping him up. "Hermione said you were good at this."

Draco shook his head, and took his position. "Sorry," he said. He was able to block the next few non verbal attacks from George before sending him back a few hexes himself. The dueling was light and quick, and Draco noted that George was not only talented in developing magical objects, but also in the field.

"So," George said with a grin, still blocking, ducking, and throwing spells at him. "Hermione, huh?"

Draco looked nervously to the spot where Harry and Ron were dueling. Ron seemed to be losing, but he did have some flair to his technique.

"Don't worry, they can't hear us." George had understood his glance. "You know she's like a sister to us."

"I know," Draco said, narrowly missing a red beam of light. 'Us' meant them all - Fred and George, as well as Harry, Ron, and the whole Weasley family. He had seen it, even in the brothers like Bill and Charlie who had just arrived.

"If anything happens to her, I'll hit you with worse than a jelly-legs. Or it might be easier to slip something into your pumpkin juice." Draco knew he wasn't kidding, and shivered at the thought of how inventive they could be with their torture. He almost preferred Bellatrix.

He returned his focus to the duel. If his mind wandered too much, he would lose quickly.

George did a complicated gesture with his wand, and Draco was pushed back into a tree. He exhaled painfully when he hit his back with a _thump_, but managed to get his wand up to attack at the same time. He knew you are most vulnerable when you think the enemy is injured. His plan worked, and George's eyes widened as he watched his wand fly out of his hand into Draco's.

"I can't promise she will never hurt because of me," Draco explained, trying to be as honest as he could. "But I can assure you, I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening."

George looked him over as Draco handed him back his wand. "Good answer," he said.

They continued to duel for a few hours, until sweat coated their brows, and most were covered in minor scrapes and bruises. Harry had something purple coming out of his ears which moved when Fred poked it, and George nursed a black eye from an projectile apple that Draco hadn't intended to go as fast as it did. They found a tree to relax under as they cleaned themselves up. Draco cured his own minor injuries, as Hermione treated Harry and George.

The sun was setting orange over the horizon, and Draco watched it through the low hanging branches of the tree. He looked back to his right, as Hermione sat beside him, the two boys apparently now free of all ills. She seemed to be watching something far away as well, but not something he could see. It was so simple, the sun setting. It happened every day, but it still felt special to see it happen. Peace hadn't existed in his life for many years, so he would enjoy the little bits when they came.

He looked at Hermione's profile for a moment, before picking up his wand. He hoped this wouldn't be an embarrassing display, but it was now or never.

"_Expecto Patronum_," Draco muttered, and held his breath. A shimmer of blue appeared at the end of his wand, shapeless for a few moments, then it started to take form. It was a great horned owl, wings spread and talons out. It flew into the air, and circled once before shimmering and fading. He glanced back at Hermione, who was grinning wildly.

"You did it!" She said, and embraced him. He laughed into her hair, and hugged her back before he realized that he could feel other eyes on them. He released his grip.

"I was expecting a ferret," Ron said. "What were you thinking about?" He looked like he didn't want to know the answer.

It took a lot of effort for Draco not to turn his head back to the bushy headed girl beside him, and thought about how to phrase his response.

"The future," he said, and he could feel soft fingers brushing against his.

* * *

They made the Burrow their headquarters for a week. They now had a plan, the manpower, and a way into the castle, so they would leave the next day. Draco knew it would all go to shit as soon as they stepped foot onto the grounds, but plans made everyone safer, calmer fighters.

Until then, there were only stilted conversations and nervous fiddling to preoccupy his time. Fortunately, Teddy had taken a liking to his paper birds, as he deposited all the products of his nervous hands to his room.

Eventually he settled into a comfortable chair in Hermione's room, reading for pleasure instead of for research. A wizard crime novel he had started weeks ago, but didn't have the time to pick up again until now. Flipping through the pages he had left, he guessed he wouldn't have time to finish tonight. He really did want to know who the house elf killer was, but it hit him that might not live to find out. The knowledge of the battle, the gravity of what would take place tomorrow, was bombarding him in ways he didn't expect. Wondering if he would finish his book, or if he would taste Molly's apple pie again, or if he would see that flower he picked in the garden bloom on Hermione's windowsill. The little reminders of time passing were the hardest for him to bear, more than the fear of what they would face.

Hermione was already tucked in her bed, reading a book he had not heard of. He suspected it was a muggle novel. He put his own book down on his chair, and got up to sit at the edge of her bed.

"What's the Hobbit?" He asked, pointing at the cover.

"Oh, its a classic muggle fantasy book," she said. "It has wizards and elves and dragons in it, but Tolkien wasn't too accurate. I used to read this all the time when I was younger, it was one of my favorites."

"You still like reading it, even if it isn't real?"

"That's what fantasy books are for, right? Taking you somewhere you can never go yourself… although even after I found out I was a witch I kept reading these. It made me feel like I was the hero of my own fantasy book." She closed the book and put it on the bedside table. "You can't imagine how ridiculous it feels to be told that not only all of this magic was real, but you were a part of it."

"No, I can't imagine," Draco said. "What did you think of witches before?"

Hermione giggled, and scratched the back of her head. "That's a funny story actually. Well, more embarrassing really. I dressed up as a witch for Halloween once, when I was eight."

"But you _are_ a witch. How do you dress up as one?"

"Well I didn't know that at the time, did I? I had a black dress and messy- messi_er_ hair and a wart on my nose. I even had a broom. I think muggles think of witches as more of… Hags, you know?" Draco had a contemplative face, as if he was conducting an anthropological study. "Of course, when I pretended to ride that broom I accidently _really_ flew a little. I think I was airborne for about five seconds before I crashed and smacked my face into the ground."

Now Draco was snickering. "No wonder you hate flying now."

"All the kids I was with started making fun of me after that. When I was terrible at flying lessons here, I thought that I should just stop trying."

"Because you fell off your broom a couple times? Hermione, you're missing out! I don't know how Potter ended up such a damned good flyer, but everyone else who'd grown up with it took years to get steady on a broom." Draco was talking with his hands now, gesturing increasing as his excitement increased. "I want to take you flying Hermione! It doesn't have to be fast or high, flying sports aren't for everyone, but just the freedom of being in the air, and watching the ground go by underneath you… it makes up for all the bruises when you learn."

Hermione was enjoying his enthusiasm, but was still skeptical. "Are you sure? I really am useless on a broom."

"It's just practice, like everything else," he insisted. "If you are as graceful as you are when you duel, you'll have no problem."

"Graceful?"

"Like you're dancing, Hermione. It gets distracting, really. Maybe you can use that to your advantage during a battle."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Draco smirked. "Wait, you're serious?" Hermione asked.

"Why wouldn't I be? I find you… fascinating."

"That's an interesting way of putting it."

Draco leaned toward Hermione, putting his arm down on the other side of her body, so he could reach her lips, and kissed her gently. "You know what I mean," he said smoothly.

Hermione melted into his touch for a moment before pulling away again, fiddling uncomfortably with her blanket. Draco gave her some space as she let out a heavy sigh.

"I don't know if I can do it," Hermione said quietly.

"Yes you can," Draco insisted. "You are more powerful than you think you are."

"There's just so much at stake, and I-"

"Hermione. We have planned and researched as much as we can. Now you need to believe in your own abilities."

She pursed her lips and kept her eyes on her blanket, as if fascinated by the checkered pattern. "I just want it to be over," she said. "I keep wishing the clock would move faster, and that it would be tomorrow. But then… then I think, what if I'm just wishing I were running faster to something terrible. And this time is something that I can never get back."

"You can never get time back anyway," Draco said with a shrug. "So we all have to enjoy what we can." He put a strong hand on Hermione's shoulder to push himself up from the bed. "I'll be right back," he assured her as he quickly exited the room.

When Draco returned, he was carrying two glasses and a bottle of firewhisky that clinked together softly as he set them down on the bedside table.

"Draco…" Hermione said slowly. "I don't think that's a great idea."

"Don't worry," he said pouring them both a glass. "I know you didn't drink much…" he looked back at Hermione and she crossed her arms. "Didn't drink at all at Hogwarts… but I trust Blaise's secret hangover spell to cure me after a bottle of Odgen's, so we are completely safe."

Hermione hesitantly took the beverage that was handed to her, and eyed it warily. "Who's is this?" she asked.

"Fred and George," Draco replied. "I'm not stealing it if that's what you're implying. You'll like it, just have the one. It will make you stop looking at that bloody clock in the corner at least."

Hermione blushed and cupped her hands around the glass, frowning. Draco gave her an encouraging smile, before raising his own. "Bottoms up!" He said, and swallowed his drink. Against her better judgment, Hermione followed suit, and emptied her own glass. The firewhisky burned her throat and settled hot in her belly. She coughed as it went down, and handed her glass back to Draco.

He laughed. "Well done, Granger. How does it feel?"

She coughed once more, and scowled at Draco. "Shut up."

He smiled and pulled out his wand. "The anti-alcohol spell works best right after the first drink," he explained. "You'll still feel the effects, but no problems sleeping and you feel nothing the next morning." He cast a wordless spell over first Hermione's, then his own head. It felt cool, like a shower of ice, before the warmth of the firewhisky in their systems took over once again.

"Did this a lot in school, then?" Hermione asked, shivering at the changing temperatures.

"More than I would like to admit," Draco said. "Blaise somehow was able to get us some- what was it- third year maybe? Thought it tasted horrible, but I kept drinking it anyway."

"Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Do you really have to ask?" Hermione didn't respond, so he tried to find words to explain. "I was naive enough to want to do anything I felt I could get approval from others for… But later, when Blaise started to keep his distance and I couldn't stand the sight of Crabbe and Goyle anymore… It, well, makes you forget much better than any spell can," he admitted. "Spells are focused, while this… this just dulls everything. I realized pretty early on that there was no way I could erase all the memories I wanted to without erasing me with them."

Hermione was silent, and turned the empty glass in her hands. Draco reached for the bottle and poured himself another. "You too?" He asked, offering her some more.

She sighed, and handed him the glass. "Why not," she said. Forgetting was something that sounded alright to her then.

Hermione spoke after they finished their second drinks. "So what now?"

"We enjoy the time go by," Draco responded, and crawled up into Hermione's bed after setting their cups down. Hermione moved to let him in. "Tell me some more about the time you didn't know witches existed."

"Oh, it really isn't that interesting," Hermione insisted. "I was normal. I went to school, did well of course. Played a bit of kid's league football when I was younger but that was almost as bad as me with flying."

"Football?" Draco said, puzzled.

"Like Quidditch, but on the ground. You kick the ball around and try to get it in the goal."

Draco nodded like he understood. "School isn't boring. I didn't go to school before Hogwarts," he explained. "I had a governess. She was a spinster old witch from a pureblood family who I think hated children. The more I acted like an adult, the less she scolded me, so I learned to mind my manners and do as I was told from when I was seven."

"That sounds horrible," Hermione said in sympathy.

"Maybe. But as she didn't care much for what I did if I wasn't in her way, I was able to do a lot of my own reading. So really it was her in that backwards way that made me a good student in school."

"Even though you were drunk all the time," she said, inclining her head at the liquor on the table.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "As much as you find my childhood idiocy amusing, Hermione…" he stopped himself and shook his head. He continued lighter. "Perhaps I could have done better than you if I had focused more, hm?"

"That sounds like a challenge," Hermione said, leaning in with a fierce grin. She could feel the buzz in her head and the tingling in the tips of her limbs. The world lagged just a bit slower in her mind than she knew it was moving, but the warmth of the drink made her relax. It felt almost normal, like she was one of the girls she saw in the Gryffindor dormitory drinking and laughing at night while she climbed the lonely stairs to study.

Draco drew himself level to her. "A challenge? Well this doesn't seem the time as we are _both_ under the influence at the moment." He could feel her breath on his, and he almost leaned in further, but Hermione pulled away.

"Good point," Hermione said, scratching her neck. "I would like to hear more about little Draco though."

"My adventures with the governess are nothing like Mary Poppins, Hermione. I'm not sure what you're expecting."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You know about Mary Poppins?" She said excitedly. "How the-"

"I helped Crabbe with a muggle studies essay once. Had to read the whole assigned book for him, stupid git couldn't even pass those classes himself," Draco shook his head. "I read more of his books after that, even when I didn't help him. I thought it was interesting how different life could be."

"You read about muggles." Hermione said, trying to wrap her head around what Draco had told her. "In your own time, you studied muggles."

"Not as much as you seem to think," Draco said. "But yes, in fact. Nobody seemed to answer any of my questions at home, so the only place I could find any answers about why wizards were superior was at Hogwarts."

"Superior…"

"Don't look at me like that, Hermione. It isn't any secret how I felt then."

"And now?"

Draco was silent for a second. He had never had to put these feelings into words. "I honestly don't know enough about muggles, so I can't say. They are just… different from us. I know I wouldn't want to be a muggle, but I also understand they have a lot of culture that we don't. So… I don't know."

Hermione wasn't upset by the answer, as she thought she might be. She knew through her own experience that admitting ignorance was harder than saying what you knew others wanted you to say. "You should meet my parents," she said. "One day…"

Draco let out a nervous chuckle. "Merlin, I think I need much more firewhisky before that," he said.

Hermione found the warm skin of Draco's arm, and fingered the softer underside. It tickled slightly, but Draco let her do it. "If you had all the galleons in the world…" she started.

"You say that as if it is a hypothetical."

"Right, well. If you got to spend your enormous wealth on something, and nobody would stop you or object, what would you do after the war?"

Draco sighed. "I told you I don't like what-ifs."

"This isn't a 'what-if'... think of it as future planning."

"A future I don't know will happen. You know, there's a reason we are drinking right now."

"Yes, and that is exactly why I'm asking," Hermione pressed. "You aren't as nihilistic as that, so please humor me and let me know what you're thinking."

"Fine," Draco conceded. It didn't matter now, what he hoped or dreamed for the future. Tomorrow would come and go, and the next day wouldn't care what he had felt. He might as well do as he said he would and enjoy time passing. "There's this old house by the sea… in Walberswick. I went out to the coast once, and followed this trail that lead out to the ocean. The house, it's falling apart and you can't even tell when it was last lived in, but it was beautiful. I would buy it, fix it up. I want to move my mother there, out of the Mansion and into some sunlight. She was never much of a drinker, so she needs something else to make her forget. She could take up gardening or something."

"It sounds lovely," Hermione said and bit her lip softly. "Maybe after you meet my parents, you can take me out there."

"I'm not sure my mother would be so welcoming," Draco warned. "She was the best mother she could be to me, but she is set in old ways."

"You grew up like that and changed your mind," she insisted. "If your mother is anything like you, she can do the same."

Draco shook his head. "Perhaps. But no matter which way this war goes, she loses… and being stuck in the middle never made anyone prone to accepting novelty."

"You don't think she'll like me."

"That's not what I said."

"Won't you let me at least try? I want to be a part of your life, Draco…"

"What life?" He snapped. "Would you like a guided tour through the rest of the mansion? Or maybe you would like some Christmas dinner with the Death Eaters."

Hermione scowled. "Don't do that."

He lifted his hand and swiped a thumb across her bottom lip. "I'm sorry… I care about you both, and I don't want either of you to get hurt. Understand? That isn't a never… just be patient. With her, and Godric with me too."

"I understand." Hermione responded. "And anything else with your mountains of gold?"

"More firewhisky," he said, and leaned over for another drink.

They spoke for hours about small nothings between soft comfortable silences, and restless sighs. The firewhisky burned like the embers of a fire in their gut, and kept them warm in the gathering darkness of Hermione's room. As the light of the candles sputtered out, Draco lifted himself from the warmth of the bed to find his way out the door, but a firm hand held him back.

"You can't go." Hermione's eyes were wide. "I won't be able to sleep."

He hesitated. "You're sure?"

"Don't be daft, Draco." Draco nodded, and settled back into the blankets.

"We'll be okay…" he said, stroking the side of her face.

She yawned, as if in response, and gave him a tired smile. "We will. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams, Hermione."

* * *

A/N: I know Ron takes a lot of abuse in this story, but I swear I don't hate him. He's just too fun to write like this, just like the twins are the best as conniving but lovable little shits. Also, I've always been curious to what Draco's patronus would be... if it isn't something obvious like a snake or a dragon. What do you think of the owl?

Review please! Your comments are appreciated, and thank you for reading!


	10. Chapter 9: Dove

**Chapter 9: Dove **

Battle is chaos. No matter how well you know the plan, or how often you've practiced dueling spells, you will always be caught off guard. Creativity and good reflexes are really what win battles. Planning is for the war.

Aberforth had secured the Order portkeys directly into the castle. They met up with the rest of the DA and Order affiliated students in the Room of Requirement, where Draco immediately met the receiving end of some angry Gryffindor hexes. Surprisingly, it was Ron who told them to shove off and trust Draco, and maybe _because_ it was him they were so easily swayed. He needed to remember to thank him later.

Then the chaos. It was hours into the battle now, the defenses broken through. The castle was crumbling around him, and he had lost Hermione when she and Ron went after the snake, Nagini. Now, he was with Ginny- who had no trouble accepting him whatsoever, which he was grateful for - Fred and George. The four of them battled their way through the rubble, looking for survivors, and sending curses at Death Eaters.

He had killed three already. Their deaths were eating at him, even with the explosions and screaming that were constantly grabbing his attention. Not because it was hard, but because it was too easy. It was too easy for him to be a killer. It made his hand shake, so he tried to shove the knowledge at the back of his mind. He could deal with it later.

He had felt his mark burning only minutes after they arrived. The Dark Lord knew they were here - the Portkeys were a way around the anti-apparation charms, but they did not bypass the detection wards around the castle. If the Carrows knew they were here, the Dark Lord would send an army. He would summon them, and they would come. The Dark Lord has been looking forward to this battle as much as Draco was dreading it - he thought of it as the final conquest before he took the wizarding world. His arm had stung, and his heart had felt heavy. It was all in their hands now.

"George!" Draco yelled, sprinting toward him. "Behind you!" George whipped around, and faced a giant, clad with a club in one hand, and spear in another. Draco shot a few stunning spells at it, but it wouldn't budge. George took a few steps back, putting up a shield only moments before the club swung in his direction. The shield held, but George was still thrown back a few feet. Ginny managed to cushion his fall, but the giant was still advancing toward his group.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" Draco yelled, and the giant fell only inches from Ginny's feet. Now he had killed a giant.

"Run!" Fred bellowed, pointing at several more giants coming their way. They didn't have the numbers to fight that many, and now was a good time to retreat. He wanted to find Hermione, wanted to know she was safe, but if he didn't keep his mind on his own fight, he would be dead.

Getting the diadem was the only part of the plan that went smoothly. Draco had found it just where he had seen it so many times before. The familiar setting made him uneasy, but this time he was ready for the onslaught from the Horcrux as he destroyed it. The little phoenix of fire was extinguished as soon as the diadem shattered, and he only felt relief that it was done. It was in the room that they heard the _boom _and _crash_ of the wards breaking and the Dark Lord's army invading the castle. Draco was separated from Hermione from that point on.

Draco obliterated some fallen rocks from their path, letting Ginny, Fred and George through before following the rest of them up the stone steps. There was a temporary lull in the battle in this corner of the castle; even the portraits took refuge in the relative quiet. They took the opportunity to rest, and plan where they would head next.

"Those blasted giants," George complained, rubbing one of his shoulders. "They're bloody impossible."

"Here, want me to help?" Ginny offered. She approached her brother, and placed a rudimentary healing charm on his injured arm.

Fred sank down heavily onto a step. "I don't think they'll be following us here," he said. "But keep an eye out for any Death Eaters. They'll come through that hole easily as us, even if the giants can't."

Draco placed detection spell on the entrance, before he allowed himself to relax from the heightened state of awareness that he had been in since the battle started. Sounds of battle still could be heard from through the break in the rubble, but it was far enough away to not be of concern to them just yet. He trusted the other Order members to their own fights. Ginny helped George heal a couple more bleeding cuts along his back, and then slumped to the floor in exhaustion herself. Draco could tell there wasn't much longer they could hold out like this.

"Draco." A voice called from the hole in the rubble they had stepped through, and the four turned to the approaching figure. Draco sensed that whoever was passing through his ward meant them no harm, but held his wand at the ready to be sure. The dark hair and cloak was a familiar sight, however, and he immediately dropped his arm.

"Snape," Draco said when he recognized the figure, and rushed over. His mentor was already bleeding badly, and he wore a haunted look in his eyes that he had never seen before.

"Where's Potter?" Snape demanded.

"I haven't seen him for over an hour, but when he left us he was heading to the headmaster's office." Draco realized belatedly that he was in fact talking to the working headmaster. "What is happening?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, and looked in the direction of the tower. He pulled Draco to the side, and he saw George put a hand to Ginny's arm so she wouldn't approach. "Potter must face the Dark Lord himself," he explained. "And he must know under what conditions. Miss Granger knows what I speak of, and I suspect she has already discussed this with him."

Draco remembered those whispered meetings, and shouted arguments he had overheard at Grimmauld Place. It was more than the Hallows they were arguing over, then. Did Snape pass her information when she was at the Manor? He wanted to be angry with her for keeping this from him, but he understood - that part of the war was never his.

Snape noticed the look in Draco's eyes, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "What would you do for her, Draco?"

"What?" Draco said. The look on Snape's face was foreign to him, it was desperate and emotive, like the lines were etched there. The dark eyes were pleading with him.

"Would you do anything for her?" He knew about Hermione. Of course Snape knew, he couldn't hide it from him. As the one person he confided in for so long, only Snape could read him like nobody else could.

"I-" Draco swallowed. "Yes."

"Take these," Snape said, pushing a small vial of memories into his hand. "Whatever happens tonight, watch those, and use them however you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Now go down to the Great Hall, you must be there. Go now!" Snape commanded to all four of them, then turned, and followed a path to another part of the castle.

Fred addressed Draco. "Onward toward the bloodbath then?" Draco touched the tiny vial that he had stuck in the pocket of his robes. It was a familiar weight, and it comforted him in a way he didn't expect. It felt like he was heading home.

Draco nodded. "Let's end this."

The three Weasleys and Draco ran down the halls, having to double back more than once because part of the castle had collapsed and blocked the path. There were fewer Death Eaters in the halls now, and he suspected it was because they were gathering near the Great Hall as Snape had said.

In one of their secondary routes, they got caught in the middle of a skirmish at the bottom of some stairs. Draco recognized Rowle and Nott, in the crowd of Death Eaters, while Seamus, Neville and Luna were the only ones opposing the crowd. They immediately stepped in, firing and ducking. Ginny cast a shield charm just in time to save Seamus, and the Death Eater was knocked back.

Draco went after Rowle, dueling quick and fierce. A spell whizzed by his head, missing him by inches, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. He blocked two more, before hitting Rowle with a stunning spell. Before he had a chance to advance to the next Death Eater, a voice caught his attention. Someone was screaming his name.

"...Draco? Where's my son… Please tell me where he is…" Narcissa's desperate calls carried over the din of battle.

Draco's heart pounded in his chest. His mother, he needed to get to her. He ran past the duels that were happening on either side of him, shooting a helpful hex at a Death Eater that fell to the ground in front of Fred, before bounding around the corner. He stopped in his tracks.

Bellatrix was holding her wand to Narcissa's face across the corridor. Draco's mother was bent over on her knees, pleading with her sister. "Please, just let me find him. I will never interfere with your plans again, I-"

"Shut up!" Bellatrix screeched. "You are no sister of mine. Your husband is a coward, and your son is a filthy blood traitor." Draco was too far away to help his mother, a spell wouldn't reach that far. He had to get closer.

"Please, Bella…"

Draco ran, wand raised. He had to get to his mother.

"No more whining! You are nothing to me. _Avada Kedavra!_"

Draco was too late. The blinding flash of green blinded him for a moment, and as if he was watching in slow motion, he saw his mother crumple to the ground, lifeless.

"NOOO!" The sound ripped from his throat in his anguish. He could hardly recognize his own voice. Bellatrix turned at the sound of Draco's scream, and cackled.

"Sorry, boy, but I have no time for you now." Draco hurled a killing curse at her as she disapperated, and it only shattered a statue that had been behind where his aunt had once stood.

His feet were glued to the stone floor, and his eyes didn't move from the spot his aunt had been just a moment before. The sound of the fight had faded in his ears, and he was alone. He was numb except for a burning in his throat.

His shock could only last for a few seconds. Then, another familiar face rounded the corner opposite to him. His father.

Draco drank in the sight of Lucius. Bloody and ragged from battle, just as he knew he himself was, he couldn't see the strength that he once admired in his father. The superiority and grace that usually accompanied Lucius' entrance into a room seemed to have melted away. Maybe it was during the struggles of the past few hours, but no, Draco thought that he had just missed it draining from his father over the years. It almost disgusted him to look at what his father was now.

Lucius stumbled, recognizing his wife's body on the ground. He raised his wand to look for the culprit, but Draco was faster. Before he saw who had done it, Draco had disarmed him and pinned him to the wall.

"YOU DIDN'T SAVE HER!" He screamed, willing the malice he felt into his voice when he just wanted to throw up. "The _only _thing you had ever done right was love her. In your entire filthy fucking life, you chose _her_ and that was it. But you didn't really love her did you?"

"Draco-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING TALK TO ME!" Draco's voice was hoarse, but the pain was welcome. "You allowed those sick evil bastards into our home, and you made her watch her _only son_ get _tortured_ by her sister. She TRUSTED YOU to keep her safe, and then THIS." Draco points to Narcissa's body behind him, but doesn't turn his head.

"Son, I-"

"I AM NOT YOUR SON! You disgust me, you are a coward, and a fraud, and a fucking sick piece of shit."

Lucius tried another tactic. He puffed his chest out in a weak mimicry of arrogance. "The Dark Lord will prevail, Draco. You need me."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I would never need you. The Dark Lord will perish, and I will finally have my future that you tried so hard to take away from me."

"With those blood traitors, and that mudblood-"

"Don't you _dare_…" Draco hissed.

"What will you do to me then?" Lucius pressed. "You have my wand, I'm defenseless. What will you get out of this? Your mother is not coming back."

Draco's eyes flashed dangerously, the color of approaching stormclouds. "Whose fault is that?" Draco couldn't help the way his voice broke.

Lucius smirked like he had won a little victory. "_Yours,_ Draco. You left her to join the blood traitors. The Dark Lord wasn't pleased… but he kept her alive thinking that the pain of losing her son was enough punishment on its own. But here you are. Alive, while she lies there…"

"Don't _talk_ about her like that," Draco cried. "_She_ never asked for this fucking life. You think you deserved her more than I did? Well, we were both never good enough for her love."

"No," Lucius said, agreeing with his son for the first time. "We weren't."

"I wish I had the time to make you pay for all the hell you put me and my mother through. I wish I could watch you suffer like we had to."

"You never had it in you to torture, or kill. You were always weak." Lucius' voice was cool, but the confidence that resonated before was seeping out of its tone.

"Weak? That was innocence, father. You destroyed that long ago." Draco lifted his wand. "You should wish now that you hadn't. _Avada Kedavra._" The light left Lucius' eyes, and he fell to the floor beside Narcissa.

Draco exhaled a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The clouds in his eyes burst, and he felt hot tears running down his cheeks.

Four Death Eaters, and a Giant. And now, he was an orphan.

* * *

Hermione sprinted toward where she could hear the distant distinct sound of spellfire.

Harry would be gone - he would be performing the task that no one should be asked to do, and he was doing it himself. She hated herself for bringing Snape's message to him, that he was the last Horcrux, but it was Harry's decision to make, as it was Harry's fight from the start.

She dodged a falling stone, and pulled Ron along with her.

Ron had been furious at the revelation. He would hear none of it for some days, yelling and cursing until Harry convinced him there was a way for him to make it out. "Dumbledore wouldn't set me up to die, just like that," he had said. Hermione didn't know if Harry had really meant it, or it was a way of easing Ron's mind. Either way, Hermione didn't know if she believed it.

She wanted desperately to find Draco. She hadn't seen him since they destroyed the diadem, and she was imagining every possible terrible outcome. With Harry, she needed only the one nightmare to haunt her as she waited for him to return, but with Draco...

After she, Harry, Ron and Draco had left the room of requirement, Harry and Draco split from them. Hermione and Ron had gone to the chamber of secrets, and gathered Basilisk fangs from the remains. As neither of them could conjure fiendfyre, this was the only way they knew to kill Nagini. They had not seen the other two since, and she was so scared for them both. She and Ron had a job, however, that if they wanted to finish this fight they needed to complete. All the Horcruxes must be destroyed for Voldemort to be vulnerable once again.

They had briefly glimpsed the huge snake, and had chased it until their lungs were raw, but had disappeared after a wall collapsed. There was no sign of it since, and Hermione suspected it had returned to its master. The only way to find it now was go to the center of the fight.

They reached the end of the corridor, they instinctively put up defensive spells as they recognized cloaked figures around the corner.

"_Stupefy!_" Ron shouted, and a Death Eater dropped, Hermione recognized the others as friendly faces.

"Ginny! Fred, George!" She exclaimed, running to meet her friends. "Are you all ok?"

"No casualties from our group yet," Ginny said in a tired voice. "We saw some people on the ground earlier, but we were being chased by giants so we couldn't stop to see who they were, or if they were okay."

"These buggers not so much," Fred added, gesturing to the Death Eater bodies that littered the floor. Hermione couldn't tell if they were breathing.

"Everyone seems to be heading that way." Ginny motioned to the next corridor. "I think the Voldemort has been calling them, all the Death Eaters we've seen have been scurrying in that direction." Hermione wondered if Voldemort could feel his Horcruxes being destroyed now that he was close. That by breaking the diadem they had set something off. Where was that bloody snake...

"Who's with you right now?" Ron asked. Hermione peered over the gathering crowd. They were only one floor up from the Great Hall, and she expected the density of people to grow as they approached. Hermione had followed shouted messages that they were defending the room as a place to care for the injured, but Hermione knew that just meant that was where Voldemort would hit the hardest.

"We just bumped into Luna, Seamus and Neville, and I think that's Lavender with Cho over there." Ginny pointed. "Malfoy was with us earlier, damn good fighter, but I don't know where he went."

"Draco? You were with him?" Hermione said eagerly as she checked the faces of the people around her once more.

If Ginny was surprised at all by Hermione's concern for Draco, she kept it to herself. "He helped us with some of these Death Eaters, then ran around the corner. We haven't gotten a chance to-"

Hermione didn't stay to listen to Ginny finish. She rushed around the corner, and was horrified by what she saw. Bodies, bodies she recognized but couldn't place before she took a shaking breath and ran closer. Both of Draco's parents, lifeless, on the cold stone floor. Her heart beat inside her ribs like a caged animal as she looked for a third body.

"No… Draco can't… Draco?" Hermione called for him, but she heard no answer. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George with other DA members followed her around the corner.

"We need to get downstairs," Ron said, eyeing the two bodies.

Hermione shook her head vigorously. She wouldn't leave Draco. He could be in trouble, with his parents like this. She spun, searching the rubble for more of the distinctive blonde hair.

"These stairs lead down to the Great Hall," George said, taking her arm. "He _will_ be down there,' we'll find him."

"No, he could be-"

"Hermione, its the only direction he could have gone." There was a crash from behind them, and George glanced back around the corner from where they came. "We have to keep moving."

There were more and more people as they approached the doors to the Great Hall. She could hear the scattered cries of duels, and shouting, and screaming. The dust from the fallen parts of the castle made her eyes sting, but she forced them open, still searching for Draco. She ducked and weaved through the crowd, careful to still be aware of the danger of Death Eaters in their midst.

She tripped over a body as she ran, taking a few stumbling steps before righting herself again. The person was too burnt and torn to be recognized as friend or foe, and she almost gagged at the smell. _The hair was black._ She observed. _Even if I can't recognize the face, there is no way that is Draco._

Suddenly, Hermione could see blonde hair flashing on the other side of the large room. Her spirits rose, if only slightly. She pushed past someone who might have been Lavender, trying to get a better look. The blonde haired boy was fighting three Death Eaters by himself, he looked like he was struggling.

Ron grabbed her arm. "Hermione! The snake!" He was pointing his wand wildly behind them, it was slithering fast, flanked by a dozen masked and cloaked Death Eaters.

Hermione didn't know which way to turn. She needed to help Draco - _if_ that was Draco… but to save more, to end this war…

She turned back to the blonde hair. He was getting backed into a wall, the waves of his wand getting more desperate. _Why wasn't anyone helping him?_

"'MIONE!" Ron grabbed a fang from her hand, and ran toward Nagaini.

"Ron!" She yelled back at him, and made to follow. Why was the snake out? Voldemort knew they were after Horcruxes, and he had been keeping Nagini close to him ever since. He must be nearby, or he needed a job done he couldn't trust anyone else to do.

The animal was moving fast, moving toward the far edge of the stone wall. Ron and Hermione sprinted after it.

"Bloody Hell," Ron said, pointing. "The snake, its after-"

"Snape!" Hermione said, seeing the cowering figure in the corner. He was already immobilized by several Death Eaters, and was at the mercy of the dangerous animal. _He must have been found out - the only reason he would be killed now, they found out he was a traitor, what do they know about the Order…?_

When they were close enough, the two Gryffindors threw spells at the closest figures, and three Death Eaters dropped immediately to the ground.

"_Stupefy!"_

"_Protego!"_ Hermione produced a large shield between her and the next Death Eater who turned to her. She heard screams increasing behind her, she knew there must be more of Voldemort's followers following these into the hall. She kept her eyes in front of her, fighting her way to Snape and Nagini.

Ron got Dolohov between the eyes, Hermione spun and fired at who she thought was Travers. Finally, they were finally face to face with Nagini, but it was too late. Blood was on the floor, pooling around where Snape sat slumped against the wall.

"No, no…" Hermione's breath was stuck in her throat.

"'MIONE, NAGINI!" Ron shouted. He had managed to confine the snake in a small area, and it thrashed in its magic cage. Hermione took a fang in her shaking and, and raised her wand.

_"Immobulus."_ The snake froze. She raised the basilisk fang and sliced it across the scaly neck, feeling the blood running down her arm. It shrieked and writhed, but Hermione just dug the fang in deeper. When the snake finally stopped struggling, the blood changed to a black ooze she recognized from the other Horcruxes. She released her spell, and the snake dropped dead.

She rushed to Snape's side, Ron at her back. The professor's breathing was shallow and labored, his eyes unfocused.

"Snape, sir. Please, let me help you!" Hermione tried healing his wounds, but they would not close. Her hands were shaking and they were covered in blood - Snape's, Nagini's, maybe even some of her own.

"T-the wand…" Snape's voice was barely above a whisper. "The D-dark Lord's wand… Draco… P-potter…"

"Shhhh, it'll be okay," Hermione said, trying to ease his pain. "We will make it out of this…" There were screams and explosions still behind her, but she trusted Ron to keep them safe for those moments.

Snape shook his head, and winced at the movement. "D-Draco… help him. He…" he coughed, and shuddered. "He needs you."

Hermione didn't know how to react. She kept a hand on his wound, but it wasn't helping. "Professor…"

"Promise me." His voice was pained, but forceful.

Hermione nodded. "I will." Snape found her eyes and he sighed, and then he was gone.

There was a lump in her throat, and she wanted to stay with her former teacher for longer, but Ron urged her up.

"There are more coming," He said. He was right, the Great Hall was filling, and Death Eaters stood against Order members and Hogwarts students. She was scanning the room for Draco again, until she heard a piercing scream echo around the stone.

She recognized it instantly, it had been a regular in her nightmares although she had never actually heard it in real life. Only in memories… Draco's memories. _Draco!_

She raced through the rubble to get to where she had seen him. The shrieking stopped but she had found the glint his hair by then. Ron ran at her heels, picking off Death Eaters when he could, and keeping a shield around them both. Draco was on the ground, Rodolphus standing over him.

"You fucking blood traitor," he spat. "You think you could get away with it? The Dark Lord will make you pay. _I_ will make you suffer. _Crucio!"_ The scream tore through Hermione's heart.

"_STUPIFY!"_ Hermione yelled. Rodolphus blocked her spell, but it had the effect of ending the curse on Draco.

"Mudblood bitch," he growled. He shot a few curses from his wand, but Hermione dodged them as she approached where Draco lay. She climbed over a large stone, and she was almost there - Draco lifted his head, trying to get back on his feet, but his hand slipped and he fell out of her sight again.

"'Mione, look out!" Ron called behind her. She was blown back a few meters from a curse that caught her shoulder. She hissed in pain, but it didn't do too much damage. She was up in a second.

By then, Rodolphus had turned his attention back to Draco. Hermione dove to the rubble where she had last seen Draco fall as the Death Eater mouthed the words of another curse.

"_PROTEGO!"_ she shouted as she leaped in front of Draco in time. She felt his breathing heavy against her back, and she reached around to find his hand. Ron took advantage of Rodolphus' distraction to stun him, and protect them from any other Death Eaters around. Draco was safe, for now.

"Draco, you… I didn't know where you were… I thought-" Hermione said. She hugged him took in his scent, layered into the sweat and the dust that covered his clothes.

"I know, Hermione. I know-" Draco's response was cut off by the booming of an amplified voice. Every duel stopped as the witches and wizards listened.

_"HARRY POTTER IS DEAD!"_ Voldemort's voice rumbled through the castle. "_He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone. The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as well every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before him, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together." _

"No- No, Harry said. Harry promised..." Hermione said, she was gasping for breath. Draco kept a firm hold on her hand. In the relative silence of the hall, she could hear sobbing. Ron looked stunned, like he was about to throw up standing at the foot of the fallen Rodolphus. There were whispers and desperate conversations, but above all that, sobbing that cut through it all.

"Are all the Horcruxes gone?" Draco whispered into her ear. Hermione hardly noticed, her best friend was dead, she could only hear the sobbing.

"Hermione!" Draco said sharply. "Keep it together, answer my question. Are they all destroyed?"

_Harry's dead. If Harry's dead, then yes_. "Yes." _Harry's dead._ "Nagini's dead… Harry's…"

"We can still end this, Hermione." Draco held her close. "The Dark Lord is human, just like all of us. We can't let any of Potter's actions go to waste."

Hermione choked on her breath, and nodded. Draco helped her to her feet, and she leaned on him as they made their way to the open entrance of the great hall. As their eyes adjusted to the changing outdoor light, Hermione saw the sight she had feared. Harry, draped lifelessly over Hagrid's arms. Voldemort stood cockily in the center of the sea of black.

"HARRY!" Ginny's cries rang out over the crowd. Hermione wanted nothing more than to comfort her friend, but she could hardly stand on her own. She wanted to help, she needed to do something. She remembered Snape's words.

"Draco," she said. "Snape, he said something about a wand?" She hiccuped, tried to hold back her tears. Draco was right there was still a fight to be had. "He said Voldemort's wand…"

Draco's eyes snapped to Voldemort's side, where his hand fingered what he now knew to be the Elder Wand. It was dark and slender, a beautifully crafted thing that… that reminded him of something. He felt a pull toward it, like it was familiar.

Hermione watched Draco's eyes flicker with a fire she hadn't seen in them yet during the fight. She had seen it briefly yesterday, in the depths of their bed. A passion, some sort of power.

"The wand," Draco explained. "It was Dumbledore's before. I recognize it."

"Dumbledore's… so he was the master of the Elder Wand." Hermione thought for a moment. "He stole it from his grave…"

"He wasn't the master then," Draco said, speaking quicker. "Snape is-"

"Snape is-" Hermione searched Draco's face. She didn't know how he would take the news. "Snape is dead." She finished quietly.

Draco's face contorted, but returned quickly to a neutral mask. The fire in his eyes, however, grew hotter. "I feel it," he said. "The wand, I feel it. The Dark Lord isn't the master… I am."

Hermione's eyes widened. "What?"

"I disarmed Dumbledore that night." His eyes narrowed. "Snape killed him, but I already had his wand. I - I feel it, Hermione. It's mine."

Hermione understood his look. They needed to fight.

"You're done, Riddle!" Hermione yelled, breaking the shocked silence.

Ron, seeing Hermione's determined face, followed suit. "He beat you! The Horcruxes are gone. Your bloody snake is dead!"

Voldemort roared with rage. "NO! You will never defeat me. Your Potter will not come to save you this time." He sent curses in their direction, but Draco blocked them both from their onslaught.

"Oh, Draco… how sweet of you to return for this final conquest. Your family waits for you here," he motioned to Bellatrix. "It isn't too late to repent your misdeeds…"

"I'll never regret what I did."

Voldemort smiled coolly, savoring the attention. "Is that so." He motioned for Harry to be put down on the stone ground. He toed Harry's face, making a tutting sound. "Potter most likely regretted his… But he won't be making any more decisions at all…"

"You bastard!" Ginny's voice cut through the crowed once again. Voldemort scowled and threw more curses in the direction of the crowd.

Draco leaned forward, as if he was about to break free of the crowd and jump headlong into a duel with Voldemort, but he was stopped by the mounting confusion. Voldemort whipped another curse at the crowd, this time blazing fire that knocked some students down. McGonagall stood, looking every part elegant powerful witch she was, and snapped a curse back at him.

"Stay away from my students!"

"NO!" Voldemort said, and shielded his side. "Your fight-"

"HARRY?" Hagrid looked around him, noticing the empty space where Harry's body just lay. "WHERE'S HARRY?"

Hermione only then noticed Harry's form - standing, and very much alive - on the other side of Voldemort's shield.

"Not dead," he said, chest heaving, and launched an attack. Spells came one after another, and Voldemort deflected each one. He put a hand out on his side, blocking the Death Eaters from joining the fight.

"He's mine," Voldemort hissed.

Harry ducked and swerved, firing spell after spell and blocking each that came his way. Draco stepped forward, but Hermione pulled him back. "It needs to be Harry," she said. "In the prophecy… in this battle, it was always them."

Draco looked between her and where Harry fought Voldemort. His eyes blazed. Harry looked like he was struggling. His movements slowed, and his arm started only make half-movements, he was on the defensive.

Suddenly, Hermione felt herself being pulled into Draco's arms. He hugged her hard, then released her. Cupping her cheek softly, Draco kissed her, and to Hermione it tasted like a goodbye.

"I love you," he said. Hermione's heart skipped a beat.

Then he let go and ran. Hermione had her arm out stretched toward where he had let it go, like if she could reach hard enough he would come back to her.

"POTTER!" Draco yelled, leaping into the crossfire. "DISARM ME!"

Harry, blocked a spell, staggered back and looked at Draco like he was insane. Hermione couldn't reach them, she looked to both of them but she couldn't bring them back to her side, so she would help in any way she could.

"Do it Harry!" She screamed. Harry recognized Hermione's voice. He didn't have time to think, he just pointed his wand and hoped.

"_Expelliarmus"_ Not only Draco's wand, but the Elder Wand also flew into Harry's hand. It was ripped from Voldemort's fingers, as it recognized its last owner being disarmed. Harry smirked, he could feel it, the power from the last Hallow. Hermione could feel a collective gasp from everyone watching the fight, and she knew Harry would have to act fast. She hoped he could do it.

He held his Death Eater wand and Draco's wand in one hand, as he pointed the Elder Wand at Voldemort.

"Too bad, Tom. You have no one you love to save you," he said. "_Avada Kedavra_." The flash was immense, it engulfed the room, and Hermione had to blink away the stars in her vision. A terrible shriek came before she saw the body. Voldemort was dead. He lay out on the ground like any other person she had stepped over or cried over in this terrible battle. In this terrible war. The leader was dead, the Death Eaters were dumbstruck, and Bellatrix was screaming.

The chaos was even worse than during the heat of battle. Some of the crowd rushed at Harry, students and Order members alike cheering and congratulating him. Others rounded on the Death Eaters once again to bring them down, or immobilize the ones that were surrendering.

Hermione knew it wasn't over yet. Many Death Eaters became desperate, and started to dissapperate or run out of the castle. Although none were as dangerous as their master, individually they had killed many, and needed to be captured. Bellatrix, however, was reacting in anguish. She started firing spells wildly around the room, before focusing on Draco. He was still wandless, and entirely open to the Death Eater's side, away from the crowd around Harry. Hermione watched in horror as she pointed her wand at him, and couldn't do anything as he tried desperately to block the onslaught wandlessly. The first few spells were deflected, but he was growing weak, she could tell. His whole body was shaking, and he didn't return any of the fire. _Why wasn't anyone helping him?_ She thought frantically for the second time that day.

There was a bright flash from Bellatrix's wand, and then she lost her line of sight in the dust. She ran toward where she had seen their shadow disappear, knocking into happy faces and relieved congratulators. She ran, but couldn't find them.

"No… DRACO!" She felt tears streaming down her face. She hadn't cried yet. Not when Harry had been dead, not when Snape died in her arms. These tears weren't sad, they were angry. She was helpless, and she couldn't find him.

_He said he loved me…_ She blew aside stones, grabbing at shadows. _I didn't say anything back..._ She ignored Ginny's far off plea to come back to them. She stumbled and cut her knee, but kept going. _He saved us all, but nobody helped him…_ She couldn't breathe. She didn't know if it was the dust, or the anger, but her lungs were collapsing and her tears made it hard to see. _I couldn't help him…_ She felt strong arms pull her back. Two sets, one on either side. She knew she was screaming and struggling, but Harry and Ron held her back. It didn't feel like her body anymore. She screamed until no sound came out of her mouth, and cried until she couldn't any more.

"It's done, Hermione. It's done."

_No. It couldn't be over. Not like this._

* * *

A/N: Some things from canon, some things from my head. Hope it makes sense as a mixture. Stay tuned to find out what happens to Draco! (And the rest of the crew)


	11. Chapter 10: Raven

A/N: Fun fact - Draco giving up his wand to Harry mid-battle from a REAL scene that they filmed for the last movie, but cut out. My headcanon is at least partially legitimatized!

**Chapter 10: Raven**

"Missing- Presumed Dead."

Hermione was folding and refolding a piece of parchment at the Burrow kitchen table. It was late afternoon when the ministry official brought her the notice, now it was almost nine. She hadn't eaten, she couldn't remember the last time she was hungry, but someone had brought her a cup of tea at about seven that was getting cold on the right of her hand. It was an official death notice for Draco Malfoy, but when she had received it she was almost surprised by her lack of response. Her eyes were still dry, and she felt exactly as she did the day before. It was a constant state of misery that no news, good or bad, seemed to shake.

They had never found Draco's body. It had been a month since the Battle of Hogwarts, and she had held out hope for longer than Harry thought it wise. She said to Harry that Draco would return, that they would find him when they rounded up the Death Eaters that still roamed England.

She was lying to herself if she didn't still hold some of that hope in her heart. But even if Draco came back to her now, she knew it couldn't be the same Draco that had left her at the battle.

She was so angry with him. That he didn't tell her what his plans were, that he had acted on impulse like that. But she was angrier with herself for letting it happen. For being the catalyst that forced him to make that decision. She had told him about the wand, she had told him that it was Harry's fight. She thought that he would accept that and let Harry fight his own battle, but for once he channeled the Gryffindor spirit he proclaimed he hated and sacrificed himself for the glory of another.

Hermione often wondered if Draco would have been able to defeat Voldemort on his own. If he would have been able to call the Elder Wand to his own hand, and utter the final spell. Maybe it was her own fear of what would happen to either of her boys that orchestrated this terrible ending. But all the wondering was fruitless, because Hermione couldn't change the past.

The blows only got harder after the cleanup had started. She had been devastated when she found that Lupin and Tonks had died in the battle, leaving Teddy an orphan. Their bodies rested side by side, still together in death. She had seen Colin Creevey's body, too young to be fighting in the first place. And many others- students, Order members, and Death Eaters alike - she had seen their bodies littered about the crumbling castle.

She didn't shed a single tear after she had been forced not to go after Draco. Her body felt too far away, like her sadness couldn't reach eyes because of some vast void in between.

Every single body they recovered had to be identified and catalogued, so they knew who they still had to look for. The list of 'missing' grew shorter and shorter after they found each body under the rubble that wasn't Draco. When she had been at the castle helping, it would always be the same. She would feel a little wave of relief when they identified a body, and then feel sick that she was happy someone else was dead.

Harry had realized it was becoming too much for her, and he had begged her to stay at the Burrow instead. At least until all the bodies were cleared.

As she folded the notice yet again, creases becoming tears in the parchment, she vaguely wondered what would happen to the vast wealth of the Malfoy family. The entire line was dead, and nobody could claim or even enter the mansion.

She sipped her tea, but it had gone cold long ago. Hermione didn't feel like getting up for more, so she just palmed the mug in her hand.

_"Incendio_" she said, focusing on the liquid. Her wand was across the table. She brought the mug back up to her hips, but was disappointed to find it had only warmed a fraction. A heavy sigh escaped her lips; she still needed a lot of practice.

"I can make you another cup, you know." George was at the door, arms crossed. Fred had sustained serious injuries near the end of the battle and had been at the Burrow recovering ever since. Fred had all but forced George out to get the shop running again, but he still made sure to come around as often as he could.

"No, its okay," Hermione said. "I think I just need something to keep me occupied." George eyed the torn up bit of parchment beside the mug.

"You okay?"

"Its… arbitrary, isn't it? The appropriate time passes, the ministry sends some secretary, 'I'm sorry for your loss,' and here we are." She tapped a finger on the handle of her mug. "What is the appropriate time to wait? Who decides that?"

"Some tosser at magical population services, but that isn't what I asked." George pulled out a seat from the table, and lowered himself onto it.

"I honestly can't tell anymore," Hermione said. "I want to be okay. I want to be like Harry and pick myself up again, move onto the next thing. But… it isn't that easy."

"Moving on to the next thing is the only thing Harry knows how to do. Doesn't mean he's doing any better than you."

"I tried, you know, to move on. I went to the library of course, seeing if a book would tell me what to do with my life now." Hermione tried to take a sip of her tea, forgetting it was still cold. She frowned and put it back down. "But each time, I ended up rereading the books on dark magic that we had around the house, trying to see if there was some way I could track Bellatrix or the Lestranges. But it's useless, even the best aurors can't place their movements."

George placed a hand on her's in understanding.

"Draco, he… he told me he loved me." Hermione shook her head, and continued in a very soft voice. She hadn't told anyone this, not even Harry. He had guessed about their relationship to an extent, but he had no idea the extent to which Hermione's heart ached for him. "Right before he ran out there, and…"

"Merlin, Hermione…"

"I don't _want _that to be on me. I have to carry that with me for the rest of my life. I'm not worth that."

"I don't think you get to make that decision. Draco was brilliant, you know he thought out what he did with all the consequences," George said. "We all knew the consequences when we decided to fight." Hermione could tell he was thinking of Fred.

George was right, but that didn't lessen any of the guilt that weighed down on her. The silence became thick, and George stood.

"I'm going to make you some tea. If you keep sipping that I'm going to bloody smash it." He held out his hand, and Hermione passed him the mug.

"Thanks."

George put a kettle on the fire, and shuffled to the cupboard. The clinking of cups and soft roar of the fire made the room less oppressive. Hermione chewed her lip as she waited.

"Would you have done anything differently?" Hermione asked.

"Hmm… maybe if I'd stayed in school, done well on my N.E. , gotten a nice ministry job…"

"George…"

"No. As much as he's in pain, and no matter how much I wish it was me instead of him, I'm so happy that Fred is alive and here. Voldemort is dead, and we can really start our lives again. People are in need of jokes right now, and I'm in the business of making people smile." The kettle started to whistle, and George turned down the fire. "Regretting what happened during the war will destroy us, Hermione."

"I feel like moving on would be… like forgetting them."

"It's honoring them, and you know that. Fred and I have a bet going, see. We want to see who will make Teddy laugh first. Bonus points if his first word is something like whiz-bang."

Hermione felt the ghost of a smile tug at her lips as she took the mug that George handed to her. "What do you get if you win?"

"Exclusive rights to his birthday presents for the next five years. I've been planning to work on a better toddler broom."

_Teddy…_ He had stayed at the Burrow as well, under Andromeda's care. She wanted to bring him home to her house, but Molly insisted that everyone wanted to help care for the baby, and that she shouldn't be alone after her daughter had died.

"He'll never know his parents."

"That doesn't mean he won't feel their love," George said. "Godric, here I go sounding like my mum. But look at Harry. He poured his heart into everything, and some of it was because he knew why his parents had died." George took his seat next to Hermione again, gripping his own mug.

"You're right."

"What about your parents?" George asked.

"I'll find them… but I don't think I can handle them just yet. Even if I can give them back their memories, there is a lot I need to explain and I haven't come to terms with it myself yet." She glanced at the parchment again. "I know they're safe, and that is enough for now."

"I can go with you," George offered. "When you're ready of course. You shouldn't have to do that alone."

"George, I- you're so busy, you don't have to."

"Fred will be fine by then, so he can watch the shop. Or even better, we can both go with you, hire Ron for a week. As long as I can make sure he won't set the store on fire… or give out any freebies." George gave her a small nudge on her shoulder. "Come on- I know you're dying for a holiday."

"Maybe… but I wouldn't trust Ron with the shop," Hermione said. "Where is he by the way?"

"Now? Bothering Fred most likely. He means well I guess, but when Ron feels guilty he does this sort of mumbling flustered thing. Last week he dropped his potions all over Fred's bed. Fred wanted to tease Ron a little, make him loosen up, so he started screaming bloody murder like his skin was on fire. Poor Ron's eyes almost popped out of his head, and I swear he started crying. Fred thought it was hysterical."

"That's awful George," Hermione said. "You know Ron doesn't take those sorts of things well."

"Yeah, well, maybe he deserves it." George shrugged, and finished off his tea.

* * *

Hermione hated how the little things set her off. There were traces around the Burrow that Draco had been there. Even if he had only stayed in that spare room a week, when she went in change the sheets, she found shirt tucked up inside the covers, left there and forgotten. She had already put away the rest of his clothes - mostly transfigured Weasley things since he had only one set from when he escaped the manor - and she had been fine. This shirt though, made her remember their first wandless lessons at Grimmauld place. He had been wearing it when she felt his skin on hers… Before she realized it, the sun was setting and she had been sitting on that bed for an hour. What was worse was that Molly didn't come up to find her during all that time because this had been a regular occurrence in the last few weeks. Half the time she would watch the clock, willing time to move faster even if she didn't know what she was waiting for. The other half would be like she was wearing the time turner again, and time moved without her.

Hermione feared she might be going crazy. She was seeing things that weren't there.

On the day of Lupin and Tonks' funeral, it had been dark and overcast. Everyone feared rain, but the sky barely held out for the entire ceremony, and Teddy was crying the whole time, cradled to Andromeda's chest. Whether he knew they were mourning his parents or he was just uncomfortable in the cold it didn't matter, the cries burrowed into Hermione's heart and played over and over for the next few days. She couldn't get the sound out of her head.

When they turned to leave after the coffins had been buried, Hermione thought she saw a figure in the distance. The black cloak almost blended into the surrounding trees, especially in the dreary weather, but what caught her eye was the hair. It was pure, brilliant blond, cut short. She blinked, and the figure was gone - and she didn't know if she had really seen anything at all. That had been two weeks ago.

The next time she saw the figure, she was out in the orchards behind the Burrow. It was about a week after Lupin and Tonks' funeral. She was taking a walk because she wanted to get out of the house, and away from everyone. Harry and Ginny were only trying to help, but they had started arguing when Harry had suggested she wasn't handling things well. He wanted to bring her to Diagon Alley, but she refused. He got angry, and she stormed out. Now she was under the apple trees, trying to figure out what to do next. Then she saw him - the ghost of Draco, in the same cloak with the same brilliant hair - peering at her at the other side of the orchard. She ran to him, swerving between trees, but he was gone in a moment. When she finally reached the spot where she had seen him, there was no trace of anyone ever standing there.

Hermione started to think that maybe wasn't handling things as well as she believed.

The last time she saw the figure was the day before, when the ministry official delivered the notice. She had taken the parchment, thanked the wizard softly, and in the moment before she shut the door, she saw the stark black and blonde. She didn't look again, because she knew he would be gone if she did.

Today, she busied herself by cooking dinner for whoever was left in the house. She knew Fred liked her pasta, so she started cutting up tomatoes for the sauce. Keeping her hands moving, she found, was the best way to keep her mind from returning back to Teddy's lonely crying, or the screaming at Hogwarts, or her own whimpering in the dark basement of the Malfoy Mansion.

She heard footsteps behind her, but didn't bother to look up.

"Hi Ron," she said, tossing some chopped tomato into a bowl.

"Hey 'Mione, how'd you know it was me?" He joined her next to the counter.

"I thought after all these years on the run you would learn to step quieter," Hermione said. "But you still have that very distinctive… clomp."

"Never needed to learn to be quiet. That's what magic's for. Which you can use to cook, by the way."

Cooking the muggle way reminded her of her parents. And of Draco. But no matter how close she was to Ron, that wasn't something easy to discuss with him.

"It tastes better this way." Hermione grabbed another tomato, and started cutting through the red meat.

"Don't tell Mum that," he said, and looked over her shoulder. "What are you making?"

"Just pasta with tomato sauce. Fred's favorite, since he asked if I could cook it again. It's simple, but satisfying if you do it all by hand. Can you pass me another tomato please?" Ron obliged, picking up another and handing it to Hermione. "Thanks."

"Fred'll like it."

"Have you been with him today? Spill any more potion on him?" Hermione meant it as a joke, but it came out a little dry.

"Er… No… He-" Ron babbled.

"I was teasing Ron, don't worry."

"Oh. Well he's feeling better. Says he can stay awake most of the day."

"Good."

The silence that followed was uneasy. Hermione kept chopping, and Ron shifted from foot to foot, like he wanted to say something. It was starting to bother her.

"Ron…?" Hermione said, eyeing her friend and putting down her knife.

"Don't you think we would have been good… like, together?" He spoke like he had rehearsed the lines. "I thought we were close, when we were traveling…"

_Traveling is one way of putting it._

"... and I thought that we could try again?"

Hermione just stared at him. She didn't know what to say.

"'Mione?"

"Ron, no… you're my friend, but no. I can't."

Ron still looked determined. "It's okay, we can take it slow, if you still need time after the war… Fred's still recovering and we just buried Lupin and-"

"No, Ron, I don't mean not now. I mean no, and that's it." Hermione put her hand back on the knife handle, but didn't pick it up. She couldn't look at him.

"But 'Mione! Couldn't you feel it before? Fred and George have been trying to get us to get our lives moving again and I think that we-"

"Ronald. I can assure you that _this_." She gestured between them. "Is not what they meant."

Ron's face started turning red. "'Mione please? Just give it a chance?"

"NO!" She yelled. "And if you don't respect that, then I would reconsider you as a friend as well."

"Calm down Hermione, I know you've been upset lately," Ron said, taking a step back. "Don't you think that a relationship could help-"

She broke. "FUCK YOU RONALD! How dare you speak to me like that, like I'm a child. After all we've been through? _I_ know what is best for me, and _you_ will not manipulate loss to your advantage."

"What could bloody be holding you back then?" Ron retorted.

He didn't know.

Hermione realized that Harry - who had been infinitely more observant, and perhaps more tolerant than his friend - hadn't told Ron of his suspicions. Ron didn't know what happened between Hermione and Draco in that month and a half before the battle.

Hermione left the half-made meal behind her, and left the kitchen. She was so angry, she was shaking, but she didn't know where to go. She was afraid that Ron would follow her up to her room, and most of the other rooms were occupied. She didn't mind seeing Fred or George, but she would rather not talk to anyone.

Her feet took her to Teddy's room. It was familiar, comfortable, and an infant wouldn't try to give her any advice. He was awake, so Hermione went to pick him up. Teddy little sounds of protest, but eventually settled into her arms as she paced around the room. Her temper calmed, and started to talk softly to the baby.

"What are we going to do now, Teddy?" She cooed to him. "I guess the boys will start to get hungry soon, I did promise to make lunch. Should I go back down there?"

Teddy looked at her with wide eyes, and didn't make a sound.

"You're really no help, are you?" She sighed, and paced the room some more. She missed Draco with all her heart, but she couldn't even tell her best friends what he meant to her. _What does that say about them… or about me?_

"Do you miss him as much as I do, Teddy?"

Teddy gurgled, and reached up to grab Hermione's hair in his little fist.

"Good, at least I'm not alone."

* * *

Dinner was more uncomfortable than Hermione could endure. She finished the meal, and put it out on the table, but took advantage of Fred staying in bed as an excuse to leave with his pasta. He was asleep, so she left it out on a table with a heat retention spell, and made her way to the library to eat in relative quiet.

She stayed there and read until she heard Ron clomp upstairs to his room before retreating to her own. She locked and silenced the room before walking over to her closet to look for a fresh pair of pajamas.

Suddenly, a pair of hands came from behind her and covered her eyes and grabbed her arm. She let out a little scream, but realized that she had already silenced the room, and nobody would come for her. Her wand was on her bed where she threw it after she locked the door.

"Who are you? What do you want?" She breathed, trying to turn but the firm hands held her still. The list of Death Eaters that were still at large flashed through her mind, and in the span of two seconds she attempted to narrow the list to only those she thought were smart enough to track her… but all thoughts stopped when her captor spoke.

"Good evening, Love."

_Draco. _She would never forget that voice, she heard it every night in her dreams.

"No… no, you're dead. You're dead."

"Clearly not."

"I got a n- notice." She was hyperventilating. She wanted to see him, to make sure he was real, but he wouldn't let her turn around. "C-can't-"

"That skinny wizard from the ministry yesterday? That stupid little piece of parchment doesn't mean anything. The Hermione I know wouldn't give up that easily." His voice tore at her, pulled her to pieces. She was crying for the first time since the battle.

"Y-you can't be real. You're…" she choked on a sob that escaped her throat. "You're like all the other- other times. I'm going crazy…"

"You're not crazy, Love. I'm really here."

"Then w-why won't you let me see you?" She sniffed back her tears and reached back, trying to see with her hands the way his shoulder met his neck, and the way his hair fell over his face. He grabbed her hand, and softly guided it to his cheek, then his nose, then his lips…

"It really is me," he said into her hand. He let her turn around, and she gasped.

"Oh, Merlin… Draco…" He was how she saw him in her memories and her dreams. His blonde hair was slightly lower his eyes, that emitted the same fire she had seen when he had kissed her goodbye. But running across his face, from his left eye down to his neck, was a red angry slash that was only starting to scar. She reached up to touch where it started on his cheekbone, but he flinched when her finger found his skin.

"Bella," Draco said simply, and wrapped his arms around Hermione. He pulled her close, and whispered into her ear. "Godric, I missed you Hermione."

Hermione really started crying. She sobbed hard into his shoulder, and he held her up. "I'm alive, Hermione," he kept saying to her. "I'm alive, it's okay."

She hit his chest. "How could you- how could you do that to me?" She inhaled sharply, and hit his chest again, tears still streaming down her face. "Where did you go?"

"Later, Hermione. I promise I'll explain everything, but I can't stay for long now." He looked about him. "Do you have my wand?"

"It- it isn't here."

"Where?"

"Buried…"

"Why would you bury my wand-"

"BECAUSE YOU WERE DEAD!" Hermione snapped. She gripped his shirt hard, and buried her face in his shoulder. "You were dead and- and we didn't have a body."

"Hermione…" Draco rubbed her back, and let her cry.

"We buried it next to Lupin and Tonks- I wanted to keep it but…" Hermione shook her head. "Harry told me I should let it… let you go…"

"You won't have to do that. I'm okay." He lifted Hermione's head, and kissed her. It was an aching kiss, one that told a story of the month that they had apart. Hermione could taste her own tears in her mouth, and hoped that Draco could taste them too, so he would know how much it hurt her.

"Tell me," Hermione begged. He looked like he wanted to refuse, but her eyes didn't leave his. He eventually took her hand and led her to the bed so they could sit. He sighed, and began.

"I held Bella off as best I could after the Dark Lord died. She blamed me, for obvious reasons. Without a wand, I could only do so much before she hit me with a curse that made me pass out. She didn't want to kill me- I think because she wanted the time to torture me - so she apparated back to a safe house that I had never seen before."

Draco brought a knee up to his chest, and fiddled with the hem of his slacks. "Rodolphus and Rabastan caught up with her. Told her that I was more useful to get information from than just to torture and kill, so they kept me in the basement, usually on some potions to make sure I didn't struggle or get away. They needed me to form a sort of revenge plan, but Bella wasn't that interested. All she wanted was targets to destroy. I have never been more thankful that Snape ensured I was such a good Occlumens because I don't know what would have happened if they got into my thoughts. I was able to keep all the information from them, even when I was under sleep and behavior potions."

"Draco, did-"

"Hermione, please," Draco pleaded with her. "Please… if you interrupt I might not be able to finish." She nodded, and took his hand in hers instead. He relaxed a fraction, and continued. "I wasn't able to keep everything away - I told you the main outlets of magic are intellectual focus and emotion? Well, everything about the Order I could keep to myself, but I couldn't about… about _you_ Hermione. They know about us. I had to think of something to keep me sane, I couldn't do it myself. To them, it was like being with a mudblood was almost as bad as killing the Dark Lord. Bella took great joy in telling me all the ways she would kill you, if she ever found you…"

He took a shuddering breath. "I didn't know how long I was in there, now I figured it was about two weeks. It was just absolute luck that got me out. A couple other Death Eaters on the run found them, and were begging to join. As if Bella could lead them like the Dark Lord could, those fucking vultures only wanted to benefit from the protection of people more powerful than themselves. They begged, and Bella refused, so they attacked. They didn't know I was there, and they accidentally broke my wards. I took out one of them, stole his wand, and I was able to escape.

"I got to the Manor, and found that my father never actually disowned me. The blood magic still held, and because I was now the head of the family, I could change all the wards to only let me in. Bella knew I would go there, but I figured the wards would hold for maybe a day or two while I planned what to do."

Draco took her hands and brought them to his cheek. "Believe me, Hermione. I wanted more than anything to see you, but I couldn't risk it. Not before I knew what I was doing and where I was going. Bella was serious with her threats, and I couldn't risk exposing you… What I did was just find out you were okay-"

"You _were_ at Lupin and Tonks' funeral," Hermione said. "I saw you."

"I hoped you wouldn't, but yes that was me… After they did so much for me I needed to go, and I needed to see you too… I was so close to you but I couldn't tell you where I was. It killed me Hermione."

"So what did you do?" Hermione asked.

"Snape gave me memories, during the battle. I think he foresaw something like this happening. Luckily, one of the wandless charms I practiced was a concealment charm. I was able to hide the memories the whole time I was down at Bella's safe house, and then I had an opportunity to look at them when I was at the Manor. They were… everything. All the important information on the Dark Lord and Bella and the Lestranges. Where they could be, potential targets…" He handed her a small vial. "These are the ones Harry should see," he said.

"What are they?" Hermione asked, taking the vial.

"I- I can't really tell you that. Ask Harry if he's comfortable with it after he sees them. But… I finally understand how Snape held out for so long."

"Why can't you give them to Harry then? He is okay with you now, he-" Hermione paused. A shadow passed over Draco's face. "You're leaving again aren't you."

"I'm sorry, I have to. The only way this can _really_ end is if I can find them. I've tracked about ten so far-"

"You've been killing them?" Her voice was small.

"Hermione-" Draco narrowed his eyes and the fire behind them flashed. "Only the ones that wouldn't surrender."

Hermione pressed further. "You can't just play vigilante!"

"What? And let them kill you instead? You know I can't let them do that. This is still a _war_."

"Let us help you, Draco. Let _me _help you."

"No." His answer was final. "I can't risk it. It isn't only the memories, I know how these people work. Bella doesn't have a goal like Voldemort did; all she wants is to destroy. No amount of research can predict where she will hit next, but I know how she thinks… I'm the only one who can do it."

"I won't lose you again!" Hermione shouted.

He kissed her. "You won't, Hermione. I won't let that happen." Hermione drank in Draco's scent, and felt the intensity of his gaze. The same as when he kissed her goodbye. She had replayed that moment over and over again in her head in the month since the battle.

Hermione's lip quivered, and she hit him again. "You fucking prick." She kissed him hard, pushing him down onto the bed and nipping at his lip. "You are a fucking selfish arsehole." She said between hungry kisses. She wanted to keep him there, with her, touching her, everywhere.

She kissed him again, then pulled away far enough to see him. "And I love you too."

Draco responded to her kisses and her words. He gripped her side and pulled her closer, sucking at her neck. "I missed you, Hermione," he spoke into her skin. "So much." He tasted salt on her flesh. "You can hate me." He nibbled at her ear. "But nothing will stop me from making sure you're safe."

"Fuck you," she said, "I could never hate you." Hermione's eyes grew hungry, and she pulled Draco closer to her, prolonging their kiss. It was desperate, like she needed his lips to keep going. Her hands were in his hair, then fingering his neck and his arms, and then back to his face. It was as if she needed to memorize the feel of his body, touch and examine every curve and movement of it.

Draco responded quickly, and pulled his arms around her waist. Hermione was pulled into his grasp, and her breathing quickened. She moaned into his mouth as he nipped at her neck and played with her mess of curls.

He needed to get closer, to find out if the skin of her stomach matched the softness of her cheek, and if he continued to kiss her neck she would make more of those beautiful sounds. Draco's lips found her mouth again, and he could feel her fingernails along his back, under his shirt.

Breaking the kiss, Draco searched for Hermione's gaze. "I need to know what you want," he said, voice airy with longing.

"This," Hermione said, searching for his lips again. "I need you."

Draco shook his head. His arousal was obvious and almost painful, but he would not go further until she told him to. "You need to say it."

Hermione blushed as she gripped and tugged on Draco's shirt. "I want to have sex with you," she said. "Please," she added, looking from his clothes to his lips, then to his eyes which were turning the color of night.

They were the words he was waiting for. He let her tug off his shirt, and he watched as she traced with her finger the white scars that were scattered across his chest. He cringed, fearing that she would turn her face away in disgust, but instead she brought her moist lips to where they were most concentrated, and dotted the raised lines with kisses that sent shivers up Draco's spine.

The heat in the room grew as they threw off more of their clothes. "Draco…" Hermione muttered against the skin of his chest. Each kiss turned the emptiness she felt before he returned into ash. He hummed into her hair in response. She was grasping at the hem of his boxers. She pulled off the last bit of fabric between them, and then they were both naked in that bed, pressed together with a sheen of sweat on their skin that made them shine in the candle lit room.

Draco removed himself slightly from Hermione's grasp, taking in the sight of her exposed body. She was beautiful - soft supple skin, but strong underneath from years of running and fighting he hated that she needed to do. He cupped one of her breasts in his hand, running the other down her arm, noting the goosebumps that arose as he kissed her hard. She moaned into his mouth, and his hips jerked in response. His eyes were on her the whole time, fire crackling and burning. There was lighting in those stormy eyes.

"Draco, now. Please…"

He obliged. He aligned himself with her body, steadying himself with an arm at her side, and pushed in. Hermione's breath hitched, and her eyes blinked in sudden pain. Draco waited and watched her reaction, stroking the side of her face, but after several seconds her features relaxed, and she started to move against his body. Draco let a low growl escape his chest, kissing the spot behind her ear that made her whimper with pleasure.

He could smell sweat and sex at the base of her neck, mixed with the familiar scents of spring in Hermione's hair.

"...more," Hermione gasped, digging her nails into his back. He repositioned himself, and pushed in deeper, relishing her sudden intake of breath. He quickened his pace, and Hermione followed, their hips moving in unison. Their breathing quickly became ragged and labored. He would not be able to hold on much longer.

Hermione wrapped her legs around Draco's hips, and he felt her hands everywhere. It was hot, the warmth between their bodies almost unbearable, but in that moment there was no war, no darkness, and no tomorrow. For once Draco's mind was completely in the present, and there was no guilt in it at all.

As Hermione's moans increased in intensity, she gripped him harder, and in response, Draco's tempo turned erratic, and the muscles in his abdomen began to tighten. All at once, Hermione gasped and Draco could feel her tighten around him. He thrust into her twice more before unravelling himself, moaning into her shoulder.

"Fuck…" His mind rolled with the waves from the pulsing in her body, before sighing contentedly and collapsing beside Hermione. They both lay there, bathing in the receding warmth of their orgasms, slowly returning to the feel of the blankets beneath them and the sounds of others' footsteps along the rooms of the Burrow.

"Was that… alright?" He asked into the warm silence of the room.

She kissed him enthusiastically, and returned her head to his chest, draping an arm over his body. "Better than I imagined," she replied. "I-... Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Draco said. "The pleasure was quite mutual."

"No, just... Thank you for being gentle." He didn't have to ask what she meant.

Draco could feel his eyelids growing heavy, and his limbs felt like they were sinking into the bed. If he didn't get up now, he knew he never would be able to, the warmth of Hermione's body was intoxicating. "I can't stay for long…" he started, but Hermione cut him off.

"No," she said forcefully, then relaxed her tone. "I mean, I know you have to leave, but please... Please, after that…"

"I can't risk it." Of course he didn't want to leave her, but there were much bigger factors involved right now. Things they could momentarily forget in the comfort of the bedroom.

Hermione nodded weakly, then returned her eyes to the angry slashes across his chest.

"Were these…?"

"From Potter," Draco said quickly. "Sixth year. I may have deserved them in theory, but I can't say I was asking for it that moment."

"I'm sorry…" Her fingertips were like butterfly kisses across the raised scar tissue.

"Don't be. It wasn't really his fault, I was a twat. He also didn't know what spell he was using. Snape explained that to me later."

She ran her hands across his naked chest, and found some other scars, more like they were from burns than knives, that ran along his right shoulder. She fingered the perimeter of the cluster, tracing a flower like shape across his muscle. "These?" She asked.

"When Bella taught me to use fiendfyre," Draco responded. "Normal fires burn skin the same way, but the scars from magical fires never fade." Hermione didn't want to ask how he knew how regular fires burnt.

Hermione looked up at Draco's face, searching it for signs of discomfort, but he showed her he didn't mind the questions, so she continued her exploration of his skin.

She found one more pronounced line, redder than the others so perhaps more recent. It ran diagonally across Draco's Dark Mark tattoo, slicing the skull and serpent in two. "And this one?"

"I did that," he confessed. "With Bella's enchanted knife, so it would scar. After they found me out, and started torturing me for information, I wanted some grand gesture that would be the equivalent of spitting in their face. It wasn't the most brilliant plan, since I fainted from blood loss pretty quickly."

Hermione brushed her hand back and forth against his tattoo, noting how it lay flat against his skin except for the raised scar through the middle. She seemed deep in thought.

"Draco… I'm worried about you…"

"Whatever I do when I leave, I am fighting for the future now. I won't get caught up in theatrics to say fuck it to my past."

She nodded, and lay her head back down against his body, listening to his breathing. He kissed her lightly on the forehead, and ran his fingers through her curls. "I'll come back this time," he whispered into her hair, his arms wrapping around her back in a hug. He held her, and told her he loved her, and that he was sorry for everything. She could feel him playing with her hair, and she hugged him back, telling him that she knew there was nothing that she could do to stop him.

* * *

They had fallen asleep for maybe half an hour before Draco forced himself up and cleaned them both off.

"Hermione, I need some supplies. Clothes, first aid, tent. And… er… I'm really hungry."

Hermione rubbed her eyes, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "Right, I'll be right back. I still have most of the stuff we used packed from when we were on the run. Anything in particular you need, besides the basics?"

"A broom? If possible… I don't have one anymore, and flying is necessary sometimes."

Hermione thought. "Well, Fred is sick right now, so he won't be missing his."

"A Cleansweep? Hermione, I'm running after Death Eaters…"

"Fine, want me to nick Harry's then? I know where he keeps it," Hermione said. "But what will I tell him? About the memories too?"

Draco pulled on his shirt, and shook his head. "I don't know. He can't know any of my plans, or preferably that I'm alive at all… But if you really trust him, you can say as much as you need to."

"He figured it out," Hermione said, collecting her clothes from the floor beside the bed, pulling them back on. "About us. He hasn't said anything, but he knows."

Draco padded over to her, and tucked a stray curl behind Hermione's ear. "Then tell him. He's your best friend… Just don't let him do anything fucking stupid. If I see him out there I _will not_ help him, understand?"

"There must be more I can do!" Hermione said, desperately. "I hate feeling this useless."

"I know, but this is one of those things that you can't know by looking in a book. Most of these are small quiet assassinations. It has to be done alone. The wizarding world thinks I'm dead, so it is easy for me to go around unnoticed, and a lot of those oafs are dumb enough to think that a ward checking Dark Marks is enough to keep them safe. It can only be me, Hermione."

Hermione understood, but she was still unsettled. "At least take this as well," she said. She rummaged through her drawers, and took out a small object that she pressed into Draco's hand.

"It's a charmed galleon we used in fifth year to communicate with the DA. We can send short messages to each other, and the coin will grow hot when you receive one. If you are in trouble, send for help."

Draco examined the galleon, and slipped it into his pocket.

Hermione left her room, and returned within a few minutes carrying a small bag and a plate of food. "This is everything," she said, handing them to him. "Extension charm, there's a lot in there. Enough food for the three of us when we were using it, we thought we'd be out for longer. Also, all the other stuff. I put some books you might find helpful in there too."

"Thanks," Draco said, mouth half full. He was already shoveling the leftover dinner Hermione had brought up for him. "This is really good," he said enthusiastically, pointing at the pasta.

"Er… thanks." She watched in silence as he finished his food, and organized the few things he had into the bag she had given him. Draco noticed her worried look, and how she kept chewing on her lip as he made account of what she had given him.

"It will be over soon. This… isn't some sort of goodbye, okay?" Draco said. Hermione wouldn't look at him. "I've been selfish, I'm a prick, I know. This is the only way I know how to fix it." He touched her cheek lightly to turn her head back to him. "Trust me."

She nodded silently, and hugged him. "You better fucking come back." She said, and let him go.

He was gone the next moment, and she was standing in her room alone again. As the warmth from his touch left her body, Hermione almost felt like she had only dreamed he was there, but the smell of sex and something like burning coals still lingered behind. Her Draco was alive.

* * *

A/N: It just occurred to me that I most likely based my version of Draco on a mix between Zuko and Himura Kenshin. Lots of angst. Lots of guilt. Lots of daddy issues.

Also, don't be too harsh on baby's first sex scene. I have no idea how to write these things.

Thank you for your lovely reviews, keep them coming!


	12. Chapter 11: Crane

**Chapter 11: Crane **

Hermione woke up slowly the next day, blinking at the bright light that filtered through her window. She eyed the vial on her bedside table, with the shifting blue and silver liquid inside. It really wasn't a dream. She stretched, and slipped out of the covers with a lightness that she hadn't felt in the past month. Nothing was settled, a new terror for Draco gripped her heart, but Hermione was also hopeful for the first time since the battle.

As she got dressed, the glint of the vial kept catching her attention. Hermione put up her hair, and sighed. She needed to talk to Harry as soon as she could, but the thought made her uneasy. She put the feeling out of her mind, and grabbed the vial before heading downstairs. This was her first step toward living her life again.

"Harry?" She called, looking first in the kitchen, then in the living room. Then she heard some voices from outside. She followed the sounds to the back of the house, where she saw Ron and Harry practicing dueling.

"Harry?" She called again. The two boys stopped their spells when they noticed her presence. Hermione avoided Ron's uncomfortable gaze. "Can I talk to you?"

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked slightly perturbed. Hermione ignored it. "Er… sure. Inside?" Harry responded. Hermione nodded, and headed back to the door, Harry at her heels.

When they got inside, she made sure no one was around before handing him the memories. "Look at these alone," she instructed.

"What are they?"

"I… can't tell you. Could you come find me after you do?"

Harry furrowed his brows, but took the vial. "Okay, I'll go to Grimmauld place. I'll be back before lunch."

Hermione gave him a soft smile. "I'll make something. Molly's been doing so much around the house with us all here, I should really start helping more."

"You okay? You seem… different," Harry said, looking her over.

"I am. We'll talk when you get back, okay?"

"Right." He walked to the fireplace and grabbed the powder, but turned back to Hermione before he stepped in. "Talk to Ron, will you? He's been insufferable."

"I'll… try," Hermione said, and Harry vanished into the green flames.

Hermione made herself a cup of tea before stepping back out into the morning sunlight. She smiled, and felt the warmth of the sun on her skin. She didn't know what she was worried about, it was only Ron. He had always been a bit… emotionally slow since they had met first year. She had dealt with it many times before.

"Ron, are you still out here?"

"Here, 'Mione," he called back. "Where did Harry go?"

"To Grimmauld Place till lunch," Hermione said. She found Ron still practicing spells, but now to an invisible partner.

Ron nodded slowly, and then opened his mouth. "Look, I know I've been a-"

"a prat." Hermione finished for him. "You always have been."

"You're angry at me," Ron stated.

"Good, you noticed."

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't want to hear it," Hermione said. "Just know that we are friends. And I want to stay exactly that."

"I understand," Ron said. "But… I can't say I like it."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "That doesn't matter," she replied. Ron looked down and started fiddling with his wand. Hermione looked from him, to the house. "Will you help me make lunch then?"

Ron looked up again, and nodded eagerly. Hermione gave him a tentatively friendly smile, and led him back to the house.

Making lunch was more pleasant than Hermione had expected. They had prepared a simple stew that would last for a few meals, and Ron had actually agreed to cook the muggle way. He was a bit clumsy with a knife, just as he was in potions, but the uneven carrot slices tasted just as good as Hermione's even ones.

Ron was just being the Ron she knew and loved since they were young. He had never been sensitive to other's thoughts, but that did not mean he didn't care and want the best for his friends. His intense loyalty manifested itself in unfortunate ways sometimes, but she understood she needed to be more patient with him than she had been recently. She grabbed Ron's hand to steady it as he chopped the last of the vegetables.

"No, no you're going to cut yourself. Like this…" She said, guiding the knife in her friend's hand down smoothly. She realized that she needed to be more patient with herself as well.

As the stew was simmering, Hermione heard the distinctive sound of the crackle of flames, and knew Harry had returned. He burst in the kitchen.

"Hermione, were you keeping these from me?" He hissed.

"Harry, no, I-"

"Where did you get these?" His voice was low, and pained. Ron stood back, confused.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand quickly, and pulled him out the door. "Ron, make sure it doesn't boil over, okay?" she said behind her, and in a lower voice to Harry. "I don't know what they are, I haven't seen them. So stop, okay?"

Harry was still seething, but allowed Hermione to lead him up to her room. She shut the door and silenced it, and motioned for Harry to sit.

"So are you going to explain?" Harry asked.

"They… are Snape's memories, yes?" Harry nodded. "I wasn't lying, I haven't seen them. Draco… he's alive. He came last night, and gave them to me."

"Malfoy? Hermione, he's been missing for-"

"Don't you think I know that?" She snapped. "I felt it, every single day he's been gone. But I'm not crazy, he _is_ alive. However, you have to ensure that everyone keeps thinking otherwise."

"...Where the bloody hell has he been?"

"He was captured by Bellatrix, and got out. He's been hunting Death Eaters ever since." Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione cut him off. "I know what you're going to say, but we can't do anything. I've tried to convince him, but I know he's right. He has resources we don't."

"Hermione…" Harry began, but he looked like he was at a loss for words.

"He- he is so determined, Harry. He was so much like you. This fight, it's personal for him."

Harry put his hand on her shoulder, and spoke softer. "Are _you _alright?"

"You… know about us then?" Hermione said cautiously.

"So you are with him? Is that why you said no to Ron?"

"Yes I am…" _Seeing Draco? Having sex with him? In love with him?_ "But that has absolutely nothing to do with why I don't want to date Ron."

"I can't say I get it, Hermione. Malfoy was such a pain in the arse in school. I won't deny he's brave, and is fighting for our side, but… is he really what you think he is?"

"If I have to justify my position on my _own _matters one more time…" Hermione said, making a frustrated noise. "So far, Draco has been the only one who has trusted my word. I am not some bint who falls for the first man who looks at me. I expected Ron to act this way, which is why I never told him, but you Harry?"

Harry looked guilty. "I'm sorry. I trust you, I do-"

"Good." Hermione said with a hard stare. "He took your firebolt, by the way," Hermione added.

"Bloody brilliant."

Hermione cracked a smile.

"The memories," Harry said, changing the subject. "They are Snape's, did Malfoy tell you anything about them?"

"He said Snape had given them to him during the battle," Hermione explained. "They were among other memories that Draco kept, but he said these were important for you to see. Something about finally understanding why he was able to spy for the Order."

"Snape was… friends with my mother, since they were children," Harry said. "He loved her, and betrayed Voldemort when he went after my family. Even after she died, he spent the rest of the war spying. It was all for her. I… I can't believe I didn't know. The way he looked at me for those years in school."

Snape's last words to her echoed in Hermione's mind, and her expression softened.

"I wish I could have told him what it meant to me," Harry confessed.

"I'm sure he wouldn't have taken the praise anyway," Hermione said. She remembered what Draco had said once, that he wasn't good like he thought Harry was. Did he mean something like this? The same words that Draco had scoffed at would have made Snape uncomfortable.

"I guess you're right," he said. "Did Malfoy really take my broom?"

"Yes…"

Harry pointed a finger at Hermione. "If he bloody breaks it-"

Hermione giggled. It felt good to laugh.

* * *

A week later, Hermione had picked up dueling again. Now, she was out in the orchard, practicing her wandless spells. She was good with transfigurations now, but some other more complex charms were giving her trouble.

"Okay, ready?" Harry said, pointing his wand at her.

"Go," Hermione said, and Harry sent a wordless spell her direction.

"_Protego!_" she cried, spreading fingers and concentrating at the space in front of her hand. A sky blue shield erupted from the palm of her hand, and deflected most of the energy of the red beam of Harry's spell. But it collapsed too quickly, and Hermione was thrown back.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" Harry said, running to her side.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. Let's go again," Hermione said, picking herself up from the grass.

As she took her position across from Harry once more, she fingered the galleon in her pocket. She hadn't received any messages, but still the coin sometimes glowed hot when she reached for it. Her heart calmed when she felt its warmth - Draco was telling her that he was alive.

* * *

"Bloody fucking Hell…" Draco wheezed, clutching his side.

"Draco, please. You have to relax, I'll make it better…"

"Merlin, Hermione. Can't you do it a bit faster-"

Draco had appeared in the middle of the night once again, this time he could hardly stand, and was covered in blood. Hermione had nearly fainted when she saw him, but still managed to get him into her bed before he collapsed. She had stopped his bleeding, but found he also had several broken ribs and a shattered arm.

"Draco, please stop moving you're making it worse." His face was so pale, and he was gritting his jaw to keep from screaming because of the pain. "I need to brew a potion, we don't have any blood-replenishing here in stock. I'll be right downstairs, ok?"

Draco looked at her, but didn't respond. He kept his jaw clenched because he couldn't promise what he would say to her wouldn't be explicit. Hermione kissed him lightly on the cheek, and hurried out the door. "Don't move," she said over her shoulder.

A few minutes later, the door opened slowly, and Draco was surprised to see Harry standing there.

"I have Skele-Gro," he said, holding up the potion bottle like it was a peace offering. "And another potion for the pain. Hermione is still brewing the other one, so she sent me up with these."

"Fucking brilliant," Draco managed, before doubling over in pain.

Harry stepped inside, and closed the door before handing Draco the bottle. "Hermione says three swallows-"

"I know how to bloody take a potion… Fuck." He grabbed the bottle, and grimaced as he gulped it down. Harry looked him over as Draco handed it back, and drank some of the second bottle.

"You can bugger off now, Potter." Draco was still wincing with every word. The potion wouldn't kick in for some time.

"Hermione wanted me to keep an eye on your condition, so I could get her if you needed her," Harry responded.

"Well, why doesn't she come up here and see for herself," Draco said through his teeth.

"So I guess I could brew your potion then."

Draco looked his old rival over. "Right, nevermind. You'd cock it up."

"Cheers."

"Arghh… Fuck…" Draco grabbed his arm.

"Er… can I ask what happened?" Harry asked. Draco's eyes flashed. "Maybe it'll take your mind off the… er… discomfort."

"Well I got fucked, as you can see." Draco said, still cradling his arm. "Found a hideout where some Death Eaters were planning, seemed to be working under Travers." He winced, then continued. "Travers is a bloody idiot, but I underestimated how many he had under him. I went in too soon… fuck… and they got me."

"How did you get out?" Harry asked.

"Apparated to my campsite. I spent a lot of time making it secure, so even though I saw them wandering around searching all day, they couldn't find me."

"_All day_? You've been like this all day?" Harry said, taking account of Draco's injuries once more. "Hermione is going to murder you herself when she finds out."

"She won't find out," Draco said pointedly, and worked his jaw. "She has enough to worry about as it is… I couldn't come here until I was sure the Death Eaters couldn't follow me."

"And you're sure they didn't?" Harry said, peering out the Burrow window as if he would find a few Death Eaters waiting for them in the yard.

"I bloody well made sure of it," Draco replied. "Human and magic detection charms in the perimeter of the… fuck… when will the potion start working…"

"Ten to fifteen minutes in my experience," Harry offered. "You must remember from Quidditch injuries?"

"I wasn't as keen as you to fall off a broom," Draco responded. "Sometimes I thought you enjoyed getting injured. Maybe fancied Madam Pomfrey-"

"It was your fault some of those times."

"Maybe it was. But I don't see you sustained any lasting injuries, so it was all in good boyhood fun." Draco said, although he knew as well as Harry that even when they were young, there was more between them than a petty rivalry.

Harry didn't reply, and instead his gaze landed on the scar running across Draco's face. It was a more pinkish white than the red it had been when Hermione first saw it, but Draco could tell it would never heal fully. It was just another reminder of the cruelty of his aunt. Although Draco didn't look back at the other boy, he could feel the intensity of his eyes unmoving.

"What are you fucking staring at," Draco finally said. "Happy? We match now. Scar-faced bloody orphans. Maybe I can start calling myself the chosen one."

Harry shifted his eyes to the floor. "What you did, at the battle… I-"

"I did what had to be done, Potter." Draco said.

Harry shook his head. "Malfoy, without you-"

Draco cut him off. "I already feel like I'm going to throw up. If you get all sentimental on me, I _will_. On you."

"It killed Hermione," Harry said softly. "She- I've never seen her like that."

Draco shut his eyes and clenched the fist on his good hand. "I didn't have a choice."

Harry shook his head. "You did have a choice. She was devastated, but she understood."

Draco shook his head. "She shouldn't have had to."

"It's like Snape-" Harry started, before Draco interrupted.

"Don't talk about him." Draco as evenly as he could manage through the pins and needles that started down his arm. "I gave you those memories because he wanted you to see them, but don't pretend you knew him, or cared about him in his life. People don't need noble intentions to be worth your time."

Harry didn't know what to say to that, so he shut his mouth, and pulled something out of the inner pocket of his robes.

Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Is that...?"

"The Elder Wand," Harry confirmed. "I mended my old wand, so I would rather go back to using that one. I think you would be a better master for it-"

"No, Potter, I-"

"Disarm me, Malfoy. You can have it back. You need it more than I do," Harry insisted.

"Potter, the circumstances by which I inherited that wand the first time…"

"I know, I was there," Harry said, and sighed. "Then it isn't for you, it's for Hermione. I can't see her like that again, if you don't come back."

"I can come back without that wand."

"But it wouldn't hurt to have any advantage you can get."

"Fuck… fine." Draco grabbed the Death Eater wand he had been using. He kept a hand on his injured side, and winced as he raised the wand. "You're sure?"

Harry agreed, and raised the Elder Wand.

"_Expelliarmus,_" Draco spoke slowly and clearly. Memories of fear and failure bounced around his head as he caught the wand. It was the first time he was in possession of the powerful wand, as well as being the master of it, and the magic coursing through felt like electricity in the tips of his fingers. "Bloody Hell…"

"I wanted to put it back in Dumbledore's tomb," Harry explained. "Ron was getting a little greedy eyed around me whenever I used it, and it just didn't feel right to me. It didn't choose me, as embarrassing as that sounds. It was always Dumbledore's wand to me."

"I'll put it back when all this is done," Draco assured him. "I don't want this kind of power."

"You need power to win wars," Harry said.

"Power corrupts people enough to start them," Draco returned. "Not the power itself, perhaps, but the wake it leaves in its path. I truly believe my father was once a great man. Not good, or kind, or thoughtful - but honorable and strong in his way. Power is what made him what you witnessed. He sought after it, and it consumed him. He lost all his free will, and with it, his wife and son's as well. The evil isn't just in the power of the Dark Lord. It's in the mundane lives of those chasing the carrot dangling in front of them. They don't realize they're bloody asses, and they'll never get it."

Draco palmed the wand, finding a comfortable grip on it. "I don't want to create a wake," he said. "And I spent my whole life trying to ignore the carrot, for what it did to my family."

"Hermione said she found your parents during the battle."

Draco stiffened, gripping the wand tighter. "Bella killed my mother... How can you do that do your family? It was sick, wrong. Bella is a different sort of crazy. But then not five minutes later I killed my own father. Does that make me like her? … Fuck, why am I even telling you any of this - the bloody potions are getting to me."

"You would never be like Bellatrix," Harry said.

"Then what really is the difference?"

"Dumbledore told me when I was a second year that it is the choices we make, rather than what we can do that make us who we are…"

"Sounds like something a professor would tell a twelve year old," Draco said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "I chose to kill my father, just like Bella chose to kill her sister."

"But you had very different reasons," Harry insisted.

Draco stared at the boy he had hated for years, and couldn't find it in himself to contradict him anymore. He couldn't understand Harry's will to see him as good, after all this time. The pain was ebbing away slightly in his ribs, but his arm was still stinging from the Skele-Gro.

"Did I ever tell you the sorting hat wanted me in Slytherin?" Harry asked.

"Well we have never exactly been in the business of telling each other much of anything. You would have made a bloody awful Slytherin, though."

"Do you think we could have been friends?"

"Oh, Merlin, Potter. You should have been sorted into Hufflepuff," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm curious."

"No," Draco said. "Even without this war, and without the bigotry, I still doubt I would have liked you. But I don't like thinking about what could have been."

"Do you think we can be friends now?"

Draco stared at Harry, dumbfounded. Harry waited patiently for a response.

"Maybe," Draco responded, and Harry seemed pleased. "We'll see once this is over."

"Hermione would like it," Harry said.

"Then I should be honest with you now," Draco said. "I lied a little about my injuries - some of them were from when I crashed your firebolt into a tree."

"_What._"

"I was escaping, sorry. Another bonus of handing the Elder Wand to me, I'll get it back to you in the same condition as when you… er… unwillingly gave it to me." Draco said sheepishly.

"If you weren't injured…" Harry began, but Draco lifted his wand.

"You better have been practicing your wandless magic then."

Harry looked as his empty hands, then back at Draco, and laughed. Really laughed. Draco had never seen him with anything but a hostile expression directed at him. It was surreal, but not entirely unwelcome. Draco put away some of his leftover pride from school days, and despite the lingering pain, grinned back.

When Hermione finally returned with the blood-replenishing potion, she almost dropped the bottle when she found the two boys grinning like idiots, planning when they would finally be able to go head to head again in a pick-up Quidditch game. Draco would deny that they were _friends_ quite yet, but he'd be damned if he couldn't enjoy Quidditch again with an ex-rival acquaintance.

* * *

Hermione next saw Draco again two and a half weeks later. In that time, she had received two messages from Draco through the galleon. One that warned them of a muggle attack that he couldn't prevent himself, and another that described how Yaxley and several others had fled to Romania where he couldn't follow. It made Hermione wonder how much Draco did by himself, but worrying about him never brought any good, only loneliness and anxiety.

What Hermione could do was report what Draco had told her for the aurors to take care of. She went to Kingsley directly, as he would respect her inability to tell where the intelligence came from. She insisted she go with them to the muggle attack, but Harry held her back when they found out it was in the same neighborhood she had grown up in.

_So Bellatrix really is targeting me_.

They were able to stop the attack, but they were somewhat unsuccessful in capturing the Death Eaters involved. Only one was brought in, and he knew next to nothing about any future plans, or the location of the others.

Hermione folded some blankets, and brought them up the stairs to Teddy's room. It was mid-afternoon and the baby was asleep, but she wanted to get her chores done early enough so she could duel with Harry before the sun went down. It was a hectic morning. Fred had recently been well enough to wander the house, and he had been pulling enough pranks to make up for the lost weeks when he was in bed. As much as Hermione loved to see Fred better, it was tiring to clean up green sludge and sneezing powder all morning.

When she stepped into Teddy's room, someone one already there. The blonde hair was almost glowing in the sunlight that came through the window, and Hermione realized that this was the first time she had seen Draco in daylight for two months.

"Draco!" The paleness and weight loss were more apparent in the better light. Dark circles under his eyes and healing scar contrasted his otherwise ashen face. He held a sleeping Teddy in his arms, rocking him gently as Draco stepped up to Hermione.

"Hello, Love," Draco said with a tired smile. He kissed her lightly on the lips, and it tasted like ashes.

"Draco, you look unwell," Hermione said.

"Not as unwell as last time."

"You need to eat," she said, feeling his pronounced cheekbones with the tips of her fingers. "I can get you dinner, and a resupply of goods, and-"

"Hermione, please. I'm only here for a moment, I needed to tell you something," he said urgently. "Bella, she's planning something big. I've gotten to enough of the surviving Death Eaters that she is starting to worry, and she wants to take control of our fear again. I-" He paused as Teddy started to squirm, and he put him back down in his crib. "I can't do this one alone. Can you get a group ready? I feel like shit for asking but-"

"Draco, Harry and I been waiting for you to let us help for weeks. Of course we will."

Draco nodded. "Then you can tell the other Order members I'm alive. I'll contact you the time and place. I… I think this is it."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Draco, and she could feel his bones. "Whatever happens, you need to come back to me. The rest can wait. You can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Hermione…"

She released him, and walked over to her dresser, where she grabbed a bottle off the top. "Pepper-Up potion," she said. "At least take this with you."

He took the bottle, and kissed her again. "I'll see you soon," he said, and he was gone.

* * *

"_ALIVE?_" Ron exclaimed. "How the bloody hell did he manage that?"

"Not easily," Harry answered. The galleon had burned in her pocket the next morning, and Hermione had called a meeting of Order members at the Burrow to explain the situation.

"_YOU KNEW?" _Ron shouted again. "Merlin, did the whole Order know?"

"No, Ron. Just me and Harry. Draco didn't even want Harry to know, but it was unavoidable."

"So, what. Has he been gallivanting around, pretending to be dead, killing Death Eaters?" Ron sneered.

"Not exactly gallivanting… but yes, in fact he has," Hermione said, shifting in her seat uncomfortably. "He was given information by Snape before he died, and has been using it to track Death Eaters." Ron looked stunned.

"There have been rumors going around the Ministry," Mr. Weasley said. "Aurors have been finding bodies of reported Death Eaters, either killed or tied up and obliviated. They haven't been able to figure out who's been doing it. The only clue has been these small paper cranes they find at each site."

"A calling card!" George said. "Brilliant!"

Hermione frowned, she wasn't so sure. Anything that could give him away wasn't worth the danger.

"The Ministry has been investigating muggle borns or half-bloods who have suffered losses in the war," Mr. Weasley continued. "They haven't got any leads, but to be honest, I don't think they've been looking too hard. If Mr. Malfoy has been doing their job for them, perhaps better than them, they didn't want to risk exposure. Honestly, even if they did investigate properly they would never suspect a pureblood who's reportedly dead."

"So why are you telling us now?" Ron asked Hermione. "If he's been getting on so sodding great on his own."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. How could Ron still be so defensive? Even after they had settled back into the easy friendship she had missed, his outbursts made her cringe. But Ron didn't see Draco's scars or Draco's memories, so could she blame Ron for his anger if she hadn't shared anything with him?

Before she could respond, George interrupted his brother. "Don't be an arse, Ron," he said, hitting him on the shoulder.

Hermione took out the galleon from her pocket, and fiddled with it between her fingers. It was cool to the touch now, the message faded from its surface where it had been etched this morning. "He needs our help. Bellatrix is planning her next move in two days. She's going to Little Whinging with whoever she has left."

"Little Whinging…" Harry repeated. "Why would she attack where I grew up? I have no attachment to that place, and the Dursleys aren't even there anymore."

"She doesn't know that," Hermione said. "Bellatrix has been attacking muggle neighborhoods she thinks are associated with us, or anyone who participated in Voldemort's downfall. Aurors stopped an attack on where I grew up only a week ago."

The table turned to Mr. Weasley, who confirmed the auror activity. "There was one other attack I heard news of. There were some Death Eaters found bound up in a neighborhood the Creeveys live in."

"Are they okay?" Hermione asked, rubbing her thumb over the ridges of the coin.

"Yes, I believe so. The auror department isn't being forward with any details, but they didn't seem worried, and there wasn't much follow up," Mr. Weasley assured her.

"What does Malfoy need us to do?" Ginny asked.

"He needs us all to be ready. When he sends the signal, we will apparate to Little Whinging together." Hermione set the coin down on the table with a click. "Harry, will you give us some information on the area?"

"Sure," Harry said. "We should go over dueling strategy as well."

"Fantastic!" Fred said. "When do we start?"

"Not you Fred," Hermione said. "You still need to recover."

"I'm fine! I walked all the way to yard today-" Fred exclaimed, waving his arms around for emphasis.

"Hush, Fred," Mrs. Weasley said, getting up from her chair. "I'll make us some lunch, we've had enough talk at the table on an empty stomach." It was her way of telling them to get out. Hermione stood, and offered to help cooking, but Mrs. Weasley would have none of it.

George helped Fred up from his seat, clapping him on the back. "No worries, Fred. When this goes down in the history books, I'll just tell 'em I'm you." They made their way to the garden with the others.

Ginny stayed behind, pulling plates from the cupboard and putting them out onto the table. As Hermione turned to follow Fred and George outside, Ginny found her arm and stopped her.

"Let the boys argue for a while," she said. "You know they will. Ron gets snippy before battle, and I don't think you want to deal with that right now."

Hermione smiled at Ginny. She wished she had been able to spend more time with her friend after the battle of Hogwarts. Ginny had tried to be there for her, but Hermione wouldn't let herself open up to anyone. Once she felt well enough to interact with others, Ginny had been in and out of the house even more than George. She had taken it upon herself to manage the return of Hogwarts students to the school, so she was spending a lot of time with McGonagall at the castle doing clean up. Whenever she was at the Burrow, she spent most of her time with Harry, and Hermione gave them their space.

"Come up to my room with me," Ginny said. Her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and it swished back and forth as she walked up the stairs.

"Chocolate wand?" Ginny held out the long candy to her friend, and Hermione accepted it.

"Thanks," she said. "I haven't had one of these since…" She didn't remember when, actually. Even when going to Hogsmeade was possible, she didn't stop by Honeydukes that often.

"I know," Ginny said, taking a bite of her own. "George brought some back. I think it had something to do with his and Fred's bet. Mum had a fit, and I got all the candy." She grinned like a wolf and motioned toward the bag in the corner of her room.

"How are you and Harry?" Hermione asked. She never discussed their relationship with Harry because he was never one to want to talk about sensitive topics like that. She gave Ginny a smirk. "The way he was looking at you during the meeting-"

"Godric, Hermione. I hear enough of this from Fred and George. I'm just glad Ron is as observant as a troll, because I wouldn't be able to put up with his faces. He always looks like he's about to be sick with slugs again…"

"Sorry, I know what you mean."

"I heard my brother was a prat the other day," Ginny said, taking another bite of chocolate. "Not that I'm surprised. I think he's been in love with you for as long as I've been with Harry."

"I don't think he really knows what love means," Hermione said, then caught herself. "Oh, Merlin I'm sorry. That was terrible."

"Don't worry, I get it," Ginny responded. "He's a git, and he needs someone to tell him so sometimes… he really does care about you though."

"I know, and that's what makes it so hard." The two girls lapsed into silence

Ginny played with the ends of her hair absentmindedly, before speaking again. "Harry and I are… good, I think. He's guilty. He thinks it's his fault Teddy's an orphan, and nothing I do makes him feel like it isn't. He's talking about training to be an auror. I know I can't stop him, but I don't know if that's the best thing for him to do."

"He hadn't told me," Hermione said. "It makes sense, but he said he was just talking to Kingsley about working at the Ministry."

"I think he forgets that he has other people to talk to, and it gets tiring when he only tells me what he's thinking. I have my own issues to deal with, which is why I'm at Hogwarts all the time. You know, putting my effort into something… tangible. But I don't think he gets that." Ginny turned to Hermione with a conflicted look in her eyes. "I don't know what I want to do after my seventh year, because I can't focus beyond these few months. Harry, though, he's been looking to this moment - after Voldemort's death - for his entire life, and I think he's a bit lost without a goal."

Hermione finished the last of her chocolate, but somehow had lost her taste for it halfway through. It hurt her tongue a little as she swallowed. "I know how you feel," Hermione said. "I hadn't been able to think about the future until, well, until Draco turned up. It felt like - like I didn't have one. I know that after what everyone's been through, I shouldn't complain, but… I couldn't snap out of it."

Ginny twirled more hair around her finger. "It wasn't just you."

"I'm sorry Harry has put everything on you though," Hermione apologized. "I can talk to him - I know it's at least partially my fault, I've been… not the greatest friend recently."

"You know, you need to be able to talk to your friends too," Ginny said knowingly.

Hermione frowned. "Right," she said quietly. "Who told you?"

"No one," Ginny said. "I saw you at the battle. And Draco came back, what, a month ago? You've been an entirely different person. Harry could tell too… It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not Ron, I get that people change… Do you love him?"

Ginny has always been straightforward, and Hermione appreciated that most of the time. Now, she didn't know how to talk about something she was forced to keep quiet about. "I- I think so."

"I can't say I know him, but I couldn't imagine you dealing with anyone who doesn't respect you. Harry told me about everything he did for the Order, and I have to say, I'm impressed."

"He really isn't who we thought he was in school," Hermione said earnestly. "I'm afraid for him. He looked so sick the last time he was here."

"He'll make it out," Ginny assured her. "I hate to say it like this, but he's been through worse, hasn't he?"

Hermione hid her face from her friend. "I guess," Hermione mumbled.

"Hermione, look at me." Hermione ignored her, so Ginny pulled on her arm. "Hermione. Take it from someone who had to wait around while her boyfriend went on a cross country death trip for half a year. You can't do anything for him now, except plan for that attack."

Hermione shifted, and looked up at Ginny, ashamed. "Right, Merlin. Ginny I-"

"Hermione, just talk to me okay? And I'll make sure I talk to you too," Ginny said with a kind smile. "Especially before you tell Ron about this. That's going to need more planning than taking on Bellatrix."

As Hermione gave Ginny a horrified face, her friend just giggled, and got up to get another chocolate wand.

* * *

A/N: I loved writing this chapter. The conversation between Harry and Draco was probably the most cathartic thing I've written.

Reviews make me happy!


	13. Chapter 12: Hawk

**Chapter 12: Hawk**

Each breath was like fire in his lungs, burning and tearing at his insides when he ran. Draco wouldn't dare fly and risk being seen, but he had to stay close to his targets who he'd been following since morning. Bella wasn't with them, he knew these were just the pawns. The disposables she would send ahead of her to report back. But if he kept pace with them, they would lead him straight to where Bella would apparate to - where the destruction would start.

He'd heard whispers across pubs, and took information from Death Eaters he'd captured, all leading him to this forest in Surrey. Fred and George had given him a pair of extendable ears before the battle of Hogwarts, and they proved to be an invaluable asset in crowded noisy rooms.

As soon as he heard the pieces of the plan that led him here, he put up detection spells around the forests to monitor the movements of the Death Eaters. They were the same wards as he used on his campsites, but the scale at which they needed to be set at drained him. Luckily, they weren't moving for several days.

In the crowds, he also heard passing mentions of the 'crane killer'. It was always said with fear, and that gave him one of the only glimpses of joy he had in these lonely months. He was playing their game now - he wanted them to fear him. It had made Bella angry, and thus she was acting with little thought to the consequences of an attack like this. It made it easier to track, and easier to plan a counterattack.

He heard voices in the distance, and eased up his pace. He put a silencing charm around himself, as well as a crude concealment charm, and followed close.

The only other thing that made him happy in those solitary days was the tattered and worn copy of The Hobbit he stole from Hermione's room the first time he returned to see her. The long nights in his tent were spent in middle earth, rather than his own mind. Hermione was right, it did make him feel like the hero of his own story, although he doubted anyone would remember his name any number of years into the future. There and back again… _I just want to get back._

The Death Eaters were talking quietly and pointing. Draco inched closer to hear what they were saying, careful not to disturb the leaves beneath his feet.

"Bellatrix said not to call her until we were _sure_," one said. He was masked, and Draco didn't recognize the voice.

"This is it, we checked it out. Call her," the other ordered. It was Goyle. He felt his arm tingle a moment later. Still using the Dark Marks, _when would they learn? _He slipped back into the shadows, and retreated back enough to put distance between him and where the Death Eaters would.

He put up a stronger ward around him, and thought of Teddy.

"_Expecto Patronum_." The silvery blue owl burst from the Elder Wand, and Draco gave it his message. "Diamond wood, heading south. They are gathering, come now." With a flap of its wings, it was off into the air. He gave a heavy huff, and sat at the base of a nearby tree. Now all he had to do was wait.

It only took minutes, Draco knew Hermione would have been prepared. Harry, Hermione and Ginny were the first to apparate to his spot, followed by George, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys, as well as some members of the DA.

As heaved himself up from the ground, Hermione ran to him and threw her arms around his shoulders. "I informed Kingsley as well. He is sending aurors in as backup, but as you're aware this is quite illegal, he couldn't do much more. I hope this is enough-"

"Hermione, take a breath. This is more than I could have hoped for," he said as he stroked her shoulder. He surveyed the group, and directed his voice at them. "According to my detection lines, we are slightly outnumbered, however this isn't like the battle of Hogwarts, Bellatrix does not have a plan beyond destruction. The Death Eaters are less loyal to her as they were to the Dark Lord- to Voldemort, and they are mostly working for their own benefit. At the moment, they fear Bellatrix more than they fear us, but if we hit them hard enough, I'm sure most will surrender. They are tired of running, and afraid of assassination."

Draco was suddenly aware of his own voice, and the pairs of eyes on him in the dark forest. "Er… Potter, is there a way to cut them off before they reach the residential area from here?" Draco asked, turning to Harry.

"There's a subway they won't know about," Harry responded. "To the southeast, it's pretty hidden, and not many go in that direction."

"Good. Let's move," Draco announced. "Aim to disarm and restrain. Chaos is what they want, we need to be in control." He inclined his head at Harry, who led them through the forest.

Hermione found Draco's hand, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Feel okay?" she asked.

"That isn't something I've had the luxury to think about," he replied. "I'm afraid if I stop to think, I won't be able to finish."

"Draco, I-"

"Hermione, after this I'll have time to think about all the shit I've done. For now-"

Hermione gave him a hard look, and pulled him down for a hungry kiss. "I won't push. As long as you _never_ give me a goodbye kiss again."

"I don't intend to."

They reached a dark tunnel that was half covered by underbrush. Hermione carefully checked if the tunnel was free of people, and unfriendly spells, and deemed it safe to enter. They filed in, and walked in silence, the footsteps and nervous breathing was echoing off the walls and ceiling. The group made their way in ones and twos, wands ready, until Harry put his hand out as they approached the end.

Draco could feel that the Death Eaters were nearby, and motioned that they needed to get out. Harry exited, followed by Hermione and Draco, but as soon as a couple more were out, the silence was broken.

"IT'S POTTER!" A masked Death Eater bellowed. "_Stupefy!" _Harry managed to raise his wand and block the spell in time.

With the Elder Wand, Draco managed to shield the entrance of the subway for enough time for the rest of the group could run out. He released the spell, and turned his wand on the hooded and masked figures.

"Where's Bellatrix?" Draco shouted, pointing his wand at them. There were only three, but they stood their ground. Clearly a sort of perimeter group that believed could get back to the rest fast enough. He would use that to his advantage.

"Anti-apparation spell," he whispered to Hermione and Ginny behind him, and they got to work as he addressed the Death Eaters.

"You won't be able to go crying back to her," Draco said ice in his voice. "It would be better for you if you would tell us where we can find her."

"Fuck you, you blood traitor," the closest one snarled back, then turned to apparate, but found he couldn't. Draco wished he could see the shock on their faces, but the cold metal masks stayed unmoving.

"Would you like to tell us now?" Draco repeated, keeping his voice even and devoid of emotion.

Two of the three didn't move, but the third broke his position and dropped to his knees while pointing behind him. "Two streets that way," he confessed quickly, wincing as he saw his fellow Death Eater start to turn on him.

"Thank you," Draco said, and with the help of Ron and Harry, they stunned all three. They left Mrs. Weasley to bind and ward the area while they continued toward where the Death Eater had pointed. It was then they heard a booming crash, and the haunting glow of a fire was suddenly spotted in the distance.

"Fuck," Ron swore, and started to dash off toward the flames.

"No!" Hermione said, as she grabbed the back of his robes. "We can't get separated, that's what Bellatrix wants."

"Stay close, but move fast!" Harry shouted behind him. As they turned the corner, the sight of several houses entirely on fire filled their vision. The Order members on the edges started conjuring up water over the houses where they could reach, but it didn't do much good. The flames stayed strong, and Draco could feel the heat bearing down on his exposed skin.

The flames were loud enough that Draco had to shout over the din. "Don't worry about the flames yet, look out for movement." He could feel the presence, the Death Eaters knew they were there, and had come for a fight.

All at once, Draco heard the cackling of his aunt, and all hell broke loose.

Draco pulled Hermione down as a spell flew past their heads, and blocked several more from different directions. The Order members were surrounded on all sides, the black of the Death Eater's cloaks were silhouetted against the brightness of the fires.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" He heard Ron's voice bellowing. The man he was dueling blocked the spell and returned another wordlessly. There was a crash from his right, and he saw a black cloaked figure being thrown into a burning house from another Order member's spell.

"There must be an anti-muggle charm on the area," Hermione shouted at Draco. "There aren't any firetrucks or people even people from down the street coming to see." He didn't ask what firetrucks were, but shot a curse at Goyle who was approaching Hermione from behind. Hermione whipped around, and shielded herself from the rest of Goyle's attack. "I need to check it is just a muggle charm, or if the aurors can't get in either."

"Okay," Draco said. "Be careful." Hermione nodded, and took off.

Draco refocused on his own fight, and went in search of Bella. He ran in the direction he had heard her voice, somewhere a few houses down from where the fires had started.

"Bella!" He screamed into the darkness. "Get the fuck out here, and _face me!"_

The cackling laughter was closer now, but he couldn't place her in the shifting light between the fire and the night. "Stupid, stupid boy… Come to join your mother?"

"She was your _sister!_ How could you? She trusted you!" Draco gripped the Elder Wand tightly, sweat dripping down his back.

"Your _father_ trusted you, you backstabbing blood traitor. But you ran off with a _mudblood whore_." The voice was closer, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"You whored yourself out to the Dark Lord, and what did that get you?" Draco's voice was shaking with anger. "_Nothing,_ for all your years of loyal service."

"I got _everything_," Bella hissed. She was right on top of him. "I'm doing you and your mother a favor by ending your sorry lives."

"_Lumos Maxima!"_ Draco shouted, and the light from the tip of his wand blazed. A shadowy shape blurred passed him, and he shot curses as it flew by. None reached their target.

"The Dark Lord will rise again!" She shrieked from the shadows. "I would have proven myself loyal for all this time. And the first thing I will do is hand my Lord the broken remains of your body!"

"The Dark Lord is _dead_," Draco yelled back. "There are no more Horcruxes, no more miraculous resurrections, no more _lurking in the shadows! Lumos Maxima!"_

The light erupted from his wand, and he saw Bellatrix's form flying past him again. The spells he shot at her didn't slow her down, she shielded and retreated until the darkness descended again.

"Then _I_ will take his place and honor his purpose!" Bellatrix called to him, high pitched and hysterical. She shot curses at him through the dark, but the intensity of the spells' light made it easy for Draco to block and dodge the attack. "While you cowardly hide behind Potter and his little friends!"

She disappeared again into the shifting darkness, but Draco had been following her movements carefully. "Who's the one hiding? _Lumos Maxima!"_ he called again, and in the blinding flash of light, he predicted her path. He shot three carefully timed spells at Bella's frame, and she fell.

"NOOO!" She snarled. She had been disarmed, bound, and petrified. She could only watch as Draco levitated her restrained body into the light.

"You taught me everything I know, dear Aunt Bella," Draco said, voice calm but laced with poison. "I could do a practical exam, if you wish." He pointed the Elder Wand at her face, tilting it to the side so she could see it.

"Recognize this wand?" The dark wood shone in the light of the fires.

"You filthy traitor, you-"

"It is the wand that killed your Lord."

Bellatrix spat at Draco's feet. "Your mother would have been so proud…"

Draco's face contorted in rage. "_CRUCIO!"_ Bellatrix's strangled cries joined the shouts and blasts from the battle beyond.

Bellatrix gave him a twisted smile after Draco released her from the curse. "I should have taught you better, boy," she growled. "Still can't do a proper Unforgivable, even with that wand."

Draco took a step back, looking his aunt over. Her robes were torn and filthy, draped over a black silk dress. Draco had frozen her in a kneeling position, able to look up at him and speak, but do nothing else. Her hooded eyes still shot daggers at him, as if she were still in control.

"Oh," Draco said almost conversationally. "And how would you suggest I improve?"

Bellatrix licked her lips. "You are still that quaking, useless _scared_ little boy," she answered. "You have cast the spell, but have yet to learn to _enjoy it_."

She had meant it as a taunt, but Draco's heart lifted when he heard her words. He gave Bella an icy smile. "Thank you for your assessment, but I think my time under your tutelage is over," he stated as he pulled something out of his pocket. It rustled as he held it up toward Bellatrix.

"What is that," Bellatrix spat.

"My parting gift," Draco replied, and sent the paper crane floating gracefully towards her, dancing in the drafts created by the fire's heat. Bellatrix's eyes widened as she watched it approach. "_Avada Kedavra." _

Bellatrix slumped to the ground with silent finality just as the crane reached her body. As the green light faded, the paper bird landed softly on her chest, and fluttered its wings once, before stilling.

Draco turned and ran toward the rest of the battle. Even if Bella had fallen, he needed to make sure his friends were safe. _His friends?_ _Allies? _

He spotted the movement of Hermione's brown hair to the right, and ran toward her. She was locked in combat with Rodolphus Lestrange. They were almost equally matched, and neither could gain an advantage over the other. Where Rodolphus was ruthless, Hermione was quick and calculating. Hermione ducked behind a car, and shot a spell under it at the Death Eater's feet.

"_Reducto!"_ Rodolphus bellowed, and the car was blown to pieces. Hermione shielded herself, but only just, and Draco could see blood starting to drip down her arm. Rodolphus began to raise his wand to a now exposed Hermione.

"NO!" Draco yelled as he ran to Hermione's side. "_Protego!"_ The bright blue white of his shield glows as it is hit by a bombardment of Rodolphus' spells.

"Protecting your mudblood bitch, Draco?" Rodolphus sneered.

"Better than you protected your dead wife, Rodolphus," Draco growled back. "Bella is dead, it's all over." He could feel Hermione's surprise from beside him, but Draco kept his eyes forward.

"You lie!" Rodolphus shouted at him, and threw another curse. "You blood-traitor-"

"Why don't you look for yourself, then?" Draco said, inclining his head to where Bellatrix's body lay. Rodolphus kept his wand on Draco, not wanting to risk shifting his attention elsewhere. Draco smirked. "Don't worry, I won't kill if you look. I'm curious to see your reaction."

Rodolphus slowly turned his head, and an animalistic sound came from his throat when he saw Bellatrix's corpse. While his head was turned, Draco disarmed him.

"I said I wouldn't kill you," Draco told him when Rodolphus whipped his head back in anger. "I didn't promise anything else."

"You fucking-" Rodolphus started and stepped forward, but Hermione quickly stunned him. He fell heavily to the ground. She was breathing quickly, and her hand was shaking from the effort of the fight. They turned together to the other duels.

"Did you hear that?" Draco said louder, hoping the Death Eaters dueling around him would listen. "BELLATRIX IS DEAD! Who are you going to run to now? Or would you risk it out there on your own, where you're afraid of a _fucking paper crane_. I would suggest you give up now, because the aurors that are right outside this anti-apparation circle will be nicer to you than I will ever be." He put as much malice as he could into his voice. Only Hermione could tell that he was shaking even worse than she was, and he didn't know how much longer he'd be able to stand. The months on the run were hitting him all at once.

Some of the duels stopped immediately, and the Death Eaters were restrained. As soon as some of the Order members were freed, they helped in the fights against more determined followers.

"How did you know I set up the anti-apparation spell?" Hermione asked Draco as they greeted the aurors who were arriving onto the scene.

"I felt it being put up," Draco said. "I've been doing detection spells so often lately, it's become second nature. When you said you were checking the wards, I thought you would do that… thanks."

Hermione smiled, and then hit him. "Paper cranes, Draco? I didn't think you'd be so dramatic."

Draco chuckled softly. "Hermione, I'm not saying I don't deserve it, but if you're going to hit me, can I sit down first? It would be a bit anticlimactic if I fainted from a slap to the arm after all this."

"Fine. We are talking about this later, though." Hermione said, pointing a finger at Draco.

"I would love to," Draco said, and leaned against Hermione's shoulder. He would let the aurors take care of the rest of the night, his job was done. The flicker of the flames was fading as water was poured over the houses, and voices he heard working got softer and gentler as the last of the Death Eaters were restrained.

Draco let his eyes shut as they grew heavy. Hermione kept her arms around him, and he relaxed into the warmth of her neck and the steadiness of her breathing. Sitting there on the curb of a muggle neighborhood, Draco slept dreamlessly unaided for the first time in years.

* * *

Draco held Hermione's hand, carrying a small bouquet of flowers as they climbed the hill to Tonks and Lupin's graves. It was the first time he had been able to return since the funeral. He was slightly uneasy as the approached the stones, but Hermione felt his discomfort and gave him a small peck on the cheek.

"They would be happy you're here," she said to him softly. "I think they were proud of you."

Draco shook his head. "I don't care… I wish they lived to be proud of their son."

"I know." Hermione looked into the setting sun, and took a deep breath of the warm summer air. The leaves on the trees lining the edge of the cemetery swayed with the breeze, and besides the faint chirping of birds, there was no other sounds. Draco carefully placed the flowers over the two adjacent graves, and stepped back to rejoin Hermione. They stood there in silence for some minutes, until the world fell into twilight.

Draco often felt his gaze drift to the grave beside it, the one that held his name. There hadn't been time since the last battle to remove the stone yet, but he didn't want to be the one to handle it. He had mentioned it to the Ministry when he was filling out paperwork yesterday stating that yes, he indeed was alive, so he would leave it at that.

"Molly will be mad if we're late for dinner," Hermione said, breaking the tranquil silence. "Should we head back now?"

"One more thing," Draco replied, reaching into his jacket for the Elder Wand. He waved it over his grave, and his own wand, the one that had chosen him when he was eleven, appeared in his hand. "I've only been borrowing this one. I want to give it back to Dumbledore. Potter- Harry I mean - said he'd go to his tomb with me." Draco returned both wands to his jacket.

"Dumbledore planned a lot of what had happened to Harry over the course of the war," Hermione said. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had also meant for you to receive that wand."

Draco shrugged. "Perhaps. But I don't see a point in trying to map what happened, or what might have happened now. I'm just glad I don't have a reason to use it anymore."

They stepped back down the hill, following the worn path. Hermione looked over Draco's profile. The circles under his eyes were still distinct, but the color was coming back to his face after a few of Molly's meals. He was welcomed to the table like an old friend - by most except for maybe Ron. Fred and George were happy to have someone to run their potions by again, and Harry, after getting his firebolt back, offered to buy him his own so they could get their pick-up games going. Draco had, of course, refused, citing his substantial fortune. But he had agreed to the game. The friendliness of the Weasley household was somewhat overwhelming to him, but Hermione did catch him say the night before, right before they fell asleep, something about Gryffindors being alright after all.

"How did the Wizengamot go today?" Hermione asked carefully. "Harry didn't say much."

"Surprisingly well actually," Draco replied. "You say Harry hates the attention, but he is bloody good at using it to his advantage. Since the Dar- Voldemort was defeated, the Ministry has been willing to do whatever he suggests… or demands. Proving I defected was easy, but writing off the Death Eater murders took a little more convincing."

"Harry did it though, right?" Hermione said, worried.

"He talked to the auror department," Draco explained. "Apparently, they were a little unwilling to admit that a single teenager could do the job the entire auror department - although mostly illegally. They also didn't want to piss off their most valuable new recruit, so they testified to the Wizengamot that I wasn't a threat."

"Good, I didn't want to break you out of Azkaban." Hermione grinned, and kissed him sweetly.

"What makes you think I couldn't break myself out?" Draco replied, grabbing her waist and recapturing her lips. "Harry wasn't the only one the auror department said they would wave the entrance examination for."

"Oh, really?" Hermione said with a smirk. "I think I can guess how you responded to that."

"Well, I can tell you what I _would_ have said if they weren't helping my case. I've been meaning to tell them what bloody-" Hermione cut him off with another kiss.

"I know, I know."

They reached the main road, and walked down a sidewalk to the portkey at the next corner. Hermione wore a yellow sundress that exaggerated the elegant curve of her back, and Draco slowed down a few paces to take advantage of the sight. Her hair flowed down over her shoulders, and bounced with each step. Draco swept some of her hair to the side, and kissed the back of her shoulder. Hermione giggled, and pulled Draco back up to walk by her side.

"Ginny gets out of St. Mungo's today," Hermione said cheerfully. Ginny had been the only casualty in the battle of Little Whinging, and she only had to stay because of the complexity of the potions needed to get her back on her feet after being hit by an unknown curse. She had been quite adamant that she felt fine, but Mrs. Weasley didn't want to risk any complications.

"Harry was very vocal about that at the ministry," Draco complained. "Ginny seems like a great person, but I still blame her for the headache I've had all day."

"Don't blame her, blame Harry," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "He gave Ginny the same headache you have."

"Good thing they finally figured out that potion then."

Hermione started playing with Draco's fingers as they walked. "That's something I wanted to talk to you about actually," Hermione said.

"Ginny's potions?"

"No… I was thinking that I would train to become a healer," Hermione confessed. "I might have to go back for seventh year, to finish my N.E. , but maybe study healing spell development?"

"How very Hermione Granger of you," Draco teased. "You and your books helping people for the rest of your life."

"Well, I spent a lot of time with Ginny at St. Mungo's the past few days, and I was thinking about what I really wanted to do." She looked up at Draco. "Focusing on the next thing."

Draco nodded solemnly. "I've been looking into how to deal with my inheritance. I have enough bloody gold to keep me for the rest of my life, but it feels… dirty to me. It's strange to think about going back to school, but… I want to be able to stand on my own feet." He gave Hermione nervous half smile. "So, I'll see you on the Hogwarts express?"

"Back to being rivals, then?" Hermione asked playfully.

"Only in the classroom," Draco replied with a glint in his eye. "I expect we'll be the talk of the school otherwise."

Hermione rolled her eyes again, and approached an old potted plant sitting on the sidewalk.

"Ready?" Hermione asked, and Draco kissed her in reply. They put their hands on the potted plant sitting on the sidewalk, and disappeared in a whirl of color.

When the breeze from the magic died down, the midsummer twilight road was quiet again, like nobody was ever there.

* * *

A/N: Almost there! Next chapter is the epilogue. However! I have also finished a short story in the interim time between this chapter and the time of the epilogue, so expect that soon as well. I just can't get enough of these guys…


	14. Epilogue: Eagle

**Epilogue: Eagle**

6 years later

"Teddy?" Draco called as he stepped into the Burrow's front door. It was a sunny and familiar feeling to stride in.

"Cousin Draco!" Teddy came bounding around the corner, and leapt into Draco's arms.

"Hey buddy, how are you?" Draco said, looking over the young boy. "Green hair today?"

"Harpies are playing tomorrow!" Teddy said enthusiastically.

"Aw, but what about the Tornados?" Draco asked, putting him back on the ground. Teddy made a face.

"Aunt Ginny isn't on the Tornados," Teddy replied. "Uncle Harry says we always cheer for Aunt Ginny."

Draco chuckled. "You're right." Teddy started pulling him toward the kitchen.

"Grandma Molly's mad you're late," Teddy explained to him as they followed the scent of dinner. As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley ushered Draco into the room.

"Draco, dear. We're all sitting already, dinner's coming right up." She gave him a quick hug of welcome, and Draco kissed her cheek.

"Sorry, Molly. I got a little caught up at work today." He took the seat next to Hermione, and ignored her accusatory glare. Teddy hopped up to the chair beside him.

"You told me you were finishing one thing when I left," Hermione hissed at Draco. "One thing does not take two hours."

"That's why you don't date someone you work with," Ron said, helping Molly bring the plates to the table.

"It was one thing!" Draco replied. "I'm so close, Hermione. One more integration spell and I'm sure it will work-"

"Hey, hey, no work talk at the table," Fred scolded, wagging a finger in a perfect imitation of Mrs. Weasley. "Mum always yells at us, so you aren't allowed to either."

"But Fred, I'm actually quite fascinated in their new invention," George said, and leaned over the table to Draco. "What is it this time?"

Hermione gave Draco another warning glare, but he ignored it again. "Portable burn treatment," Draco said with excitement. "Much better than that stuff they give you at St. Mungo's. I've almost got it to prevent permanent damage from Fiendfyre."

George looked impressed. "Almost?"

"This stuff works by countering the fire rather than the damage, so it was simple to work it with normal conjured fire, a sort of counter curse on the skin level. Of course that makes it more difficult with Fiendfyre, as there isn't exactly a counter curse, but I think I found a way to use the particular _finite_ with-" Hermione kicked Draco under the table.

"Although I'm sure you boys could talk about this for hours, you're the boring others," she said curtly.

"Sorry Hermione, but it really was _your_ suggestion of the counter curse that made me want to stay," Draco said sheepishly, and turned to Teddy who had already started shoveling food into his mouth. "So what did you do today, Teddy?"

He swallowed quickly and grinned. There was some green stuff stuck in his teeth. "I rode on my broom! Aunt Ginny showed me all her tricks! I was _so_ fast."

Ginny smiled at the boy and ruffled his hair. "Yep, I took him out on the broom that Fred and George got him last year. I think they may have messed with the magic a bit, because it goes a bit higher than I remember our kid brooms going…"

"Fred… George…" Mrs. Weasley started in a dangerous voice, and the twins looked at each other with wide eyes.

"We didn't touch it-"

"-why would you think something like that?" They dug back into their food to avoid their mother's eyes.

"As long as he's out with Ginny, it shouldn't be a problem," Ron said in their defense. Mrs. Weasley's eyes found her youngest son's, and Ron flinched slightly before returning to his own plate.

"That burn treatment though," Harry said looking from Mrs. Weasley to her children and deciding that redirecting the conversation would be a good idea. "The auror department could use some of that. It is quite insane how often Seamus _still_ burns himself on missions."

"It's insane that you let him into the department at all," Draco commented, receiving another kick from Hermione.

Harry shrugged. "He passed all the practical tests. If you think you could do better-"

"Oh, no. Not this again," Draco cut Harry off with a cool voice.

"Why are you mad at Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked Draco, tugging his robes. The little boy looked concerned.

"Your Uncle Harry has been badgering me to become an auror for years," Draco answered. "He doesn't seem to understand what the word 'no' means."

"But aurors are so cool!" Teddy protested. "My mum was an auror!"

"Your mum was a very brave woman, and an amazing auror," Draco replied. "But I would rather make my potions with your Aunt Hermione."

"Are you goin' get married to Aunt 'Mione soon?" Teddy asked in a whisper that the whole table could hear. Draco's ears turned red.

"Er… I'm-"

"Where'd you hear that Teddy?" Harry asked grinning, intrigued at the new development.

"Aunt 'Mione said she was goin' to ask," Teddy replied. This time Hermione turned red, and looked at the boy with wide eyes.

"I thought that was my job," Draco answered, treading carefully.

"That's what Uncle Ron said, but Aunt 'Mione called him a sexist wanker." Ron almost spit out the water he was sipping on.

"Ronald…" Mrs. Weasley started.

"I didn't know he was listening…" Ron said, but Ginny interrupted.

"You weren't even supposed to hear that conversation," Ginny said crossly. "Barging into my room unannounced like I'm still twelve."

Draco turned to Hermione, and felt the heat of his face increase. All pairs of eyes were on the two of them. "And what were you planning on proposing with?" Draco asked.

"Nothing," Hermione said matter of factly. "Because I know you've been carrying around that ring in your pocket for the last week. Irritating to think I wouldn't notice the use of _my own_ undetectable extension charm."

"How is it undetectable, then?" Draco asked in a quiet voice, and got a punch in the arm. He probably deserved it. His hands were shaking and sweaty, and he could feel the Weasley family's eyes on him as he pulled out his chair and got down on one knee.

"Right, er… Hermione," he asked. "Will you-"

"Yes." Hermione said, punching him in the arm again. "Now you answer."

"What?"

"This is a mutual proposal. Will you marry me?"

"But I just asked-"

"Answer, Draco."

Draco looked at her dumbly, and then found his tongue again. "Yes. Of course, yes."

Hermione finally smiled, and took the ring from Draco's fingers. It was golden with emerald accents, and intricate metal carvings. "This is old…"

"Family heirloom," Draco explained. "When I cleaned out the manor years ago, I found that in my mother's jewelry box. She had told me once that when I married a nice pureblood slytherin this would be the ring… although that didn't quite go as planned, I still think." Draco swallowed. "I still think she would have liked you."

Hermione kissed Draco, and slipped it on her finger. "It's beautiful."

"EWWW," Teddy supplied, watching the scene unfold. "No kissing."

"But this means I can answer your question now," Draco argued. "I think we will be married very soon."

* * *

After dinner, Draco offered to clean up the table to make up for his tardiness. Hermione volunteered to help him, and ushered Molly away from the kitchen in a way only she and Ginny knew how. Hermione had seen the look in Draco's eyes that said he wanted to be alone with her after the attention they got at dinner, and although she was still more comfortable in the midst of the Weasley family than Draco, she wanted some quiet as well.

She piled the dishes on the counter and nudged Draco's shoulder. "Are there any secret Black family curses on this?" Hermione said, examining her new ring. "I wanted to put some protection charms on it before I do the dishes, but I didn't want to mix spells…"

Draco touched the ring lightly. "It already has all the protection charms you need," he insisted. "Don't underestimate Narcissa's devotion to her jewelry."

"Do you want to visit their graves? We're planning on going to see Tonks and Lupin on the anniversary of the battle, but I thought it would be good for you to-"

"I already visited recently. My mother at least, I don't owe my father anything," Draco said. "I asked her about marrying you actually. If I could use her ring. I mean, its not like I got an answer… but I thought I should ask."

Hermione smiled and kissed Draco's cheek before turning to the dishes again. She turned on the faucet and took out her wand. With a quick flick, the plates started dancing into the running water one by one. "Why did it take you so long?" She asked.

"I… I didn't want you to have to make any decisions based on me," Draco explained. "I know you got that offer to work in healing development in America, and I- I wanted you to be able to do that if you wanted to."

Hermione rolled her eyes and hit him lightly on the arm. "Really, Draco? Do you really think that some official document that we get from the Ministry would change my decision on if I want to stay with you or not?" She hummed softly to herself as she adjusted her incantation to accommodate the cups. "I appreciate you thinking about my career, but I am thinking about my _whole_ life, not just the one at work. The part that includes you is just as important."

"So are you still thinking about taking the job, then?" Draco looked worried. Travel across the UK through floo or portkey was fast and easy as a wizard, but across the ocean was different. If they had to though, he knew they could make it work.

"No. I never really considered it really. But pretending I did made St. Mungo's nervous and they talked to me about raising my pay." Hermione gave Draco an evil smirk. He relaxed and grabbed a rag to clean the table.

"You're learning, Granger. Maybe our kids will be Slytherins yet." A wet rag hit is back. "Ow! See? You're just proving my point."

She shook her head with a half smile. "You wish," she said. "The American job wasn't that interesting anyway. I have more freedom here to work on what I want to instead of some big company with everyone working on one thing. I don't want to be told what to do."

"I know that very well…"

"Oh, shush," Hermione said, looking back at her ring. "We should tell my parents about our engagement… They've been asking about the possibility for a while, years really." Hermione had gone with Draco to Australia a couple months after Bellatrix was killed. They had found her parents easily, but it took a couple days to return the full extent of their memories. It had eventually succeeded, and Hermione brought them back to London where they lived in the same house that Hermione had grown up in.

"I always thought your dad hated me…" Draco said nervously.

"Well, in their defence you were everything I hated about the wizarding world for a long time. They heard me talking about how you bullied me, and when they saw you with… scars, and… well they heard about the war and they assumed the worse of course."

"They were partially right-"

Hermione pursed her lips. "Stop, Draco. It's been years. Mum loved you within minutes of you opening your mouth. Dad just needed a little of a push getting over the fact that he lost a year of his daughter's life and she was suddenly in a relationship on top of that."

"If you're sure he won't… do his scary dentist stuff on me… we should tell them as soon as possible," Draco said. "Tomorrow?"

"Sure, I'll call them." Hermione walked over to the table, and retrieved the rag she threw. When Draco handed her his own rag, she traced the scar that ran across his face with her free hand. It was whiter, faded in the years it had to heal. "I have been working on scar healing," she explained. "My side project. Not just a focused concealment charm like some of the scar healing ointment they sell, but real healing. I- I can heal this… if you want."

"You didn't tell me," Draco said, leaning into her touch. "It's already in the full product testing stage? Impressive."

"I'm not telling you so we can discuss work, Draco. I really want to know if you want me to heal it."

Draco hesitated, but then shook his head. "I can't pretend the stares don't bother me sometimes, but everyone close to me I care about knows why its there. I'm not vain enough to deny what happened to me in the past. That's like asking Harry if he wants to get rid of his."

"I actually asked him first…" Hermione admitted. "He might do it."

"Really?"

"He's tired of still being recognized for it. He wants to feel like he's really moved on, I think." Hermione said.

"Wow," Draco said with an exhale of breath. "I can't imagine him not being scar boy. Maybe that's exactly what he means though." Hermione nodded. "If you can get rid of my Dark Mark, I'm all for it though."

"You know I can't, Draco." Hermione said sadly. "It's dark magic I can't find a counter to… not just a scar on the flesh. Covering it is the best I can do."

"You hate it."

"I hate it, yes." Hermione said. "But I don't hate you for taking it, you know that."

"And I thank Merlin every day for that," Draco said. "I'm so happy that we agreed to let the Ministry give us a little piece of parchment saying they recognize us being together."

"Draco Malfoy. The epitome of wizarding romance."

"Thank you, love."

* * *

"Draco, Draco! Will you make the birds for me again tonight?"

Draco was helping Teddy get ready for bed. He never wanted to settle down and go to sleep on days he could still hear his family chatting and laughing downstairs, but Draco had lured him to his room with promises of magic and stories. Teddy had asked him to conjure birds every night that Draco read to him before bed, and it was actually fun practice, as the kid always asked for something different. If he didn't deliver, Teddy's hair would turn a sour color and he wouldn't be the best audience for his story.

"Sure, Teddy," Draco replied. "But only if you remember the incantation."

"_Avis!"_ Teddy said after a moment of thought.

"That's right, now what bird tonight?"

Teddy seemed to already have one ready. He'd been thinking about this since dinner. "Eagle! Like the ones in the story!"

Draco chuckled. "Those are big birds, Teddy. I think I'm going to need your help on this one. Will you say the incantation with me?"

Teddy nodded enthusiastically, and Draco held out his wandless hand. "Ok, one, two, three _Avis." _

A giant eagle, almost too big to fly in the room where Teddy slept, flapped into existence. It landed at the foot of his bed, and looked at the boy inquisitively. It had strong muscles under shining brown feathers, and took in the room with intelligent eyes. With a strong screeching cry, it took off again, and flew out the window, into the night.

"Wow!" Teddy breathed. "That was so cool. Eagle's my favorite."

"You're really making me work for these. No more sparrows for me."

Teddy frowned and crossed his arms. "Sparrows are boring. Not like Eagles! You can ride on them, and talk to them!"

"That's just in the story, Teddy." Draco explained. "I thought you liked riding brooms."

"Brooms are fun! Are you coming to see Aunt Ginny with us tomorrow?" He was bouncing up and down on his seat.

"Aunt Hermione and I are planning to, yeah. Can I sit next to you?"

"Only if you promise to cheer for the Harpies," Teddy said seriously. Draco smiled, already taking his Quidditch loyalties to heart, he needed to be careful what he said around him.

"I promise," Draco assured him. "Now go get the book. You're going to have to remind me of where we left off."

Teddy jumped from his bed and looked through his bookshelf, quickly finding the one he was looking for. It was old and tattered from so many readings, the cover was only stuck on with magic tape. Draco had given it to Teddy for his sixth birthday, and they had already read it twice through.

"Right here," Teddy said, opening to a dog-eared page. "Right after the dragon…"

"Oh, of course," Draco said taking the book and tucking Teddy into bed. "Comfortable?"

Teddy nodded, then nudged Draco to start, and he obliged.

"_Now we will return to Bilbo and the dwarves. All night one of them had watched, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But ever more thickly the birds were gathering. Their companies came flying from the South; and the crows that still lived above the Mountain were wheeling and crying unceasingly above…"_

* * *

A/N: Thanks for taking that adventure with me guys! All my love to those readers who reviewed/favorited/followed, hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think!

I have a short story that I'll publish in the near future, so keep an eye out for that. Until then, lovelies!


	15. Extra: Nightingale

A/N: It's my last first day of university! Wish me luck.

This story takes place a few months after the events of Firebird.

**Nightingale **

_Draco couldn't get comfortable on the squishy plush seat. Each time he stopped shifting, he sank deeper into the cushion, and it became harder for him to squirm. Like the ugly piece of furniture was magically making sure he wouldn't leave. _

_It was a distinct possibility. _

_He did everything in his power not to look up and meet the headmistresses' gaze. Draco could feel her eyes, steady and so unbearably focused on him alone. It was like they were burning into him, tracking his very thoughts, but he would refuse to give in and meet them. He didn't know what he would see in her face. Disappointment… anger… pity… He didn't know which was worst. _

_He shifted again before become very interested in a piece of dirt under his fingernail. _

_"Miss Granger was worried about you," McGonagall said to the top of Draco's head. _

_"I know." _

_"Your other friends have voiced concern as well."_

_Draco scoffed and shook his head. "I don't think I know anyone else who would call me that." The piece of dirt was still there. Stubborn little bugger, but at least it was a good distraction. _

_"I believe Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley would disagree with that claim." _

_Draco didn't answer. He had no business saying what Harry and Ron thought about him. He suspected they did it all for Hermione anyway. _

_"Why don't we just go through what has been happening since you've come back to Hogwarts then?" McGonagall asked, ignoring his silence. "Perhaps we can see what we can do." _

_Draco sighed. He didn't want to talk. To be honest he didn't quite want to listen either, but McGonagall wasn't going to leave him in peace, so he had that choice. It was just the facts anyway._

_"Tell me about the start of term." McGonagall tried again._

_He nodded slowly, and started to speak. They were only facts. Only things that he knew the headmistress already knew._

* * *

"Do you have those notes on the different sorts of banishing charms?" Hermione asked, flipping through her pages. "I seem to have misplaced mine…"

"You already know all those charms, Hermione," Draco said, amused by her flustered search. It was only three weeks into the start of classes and Hermione had already found her stride back at school. She was so at home in the piles of books that surrounded them, and her happy glow almost made it easier for him to find his own way back into the school spirit.

"Yes, but Flitwick said something about differing spells per region that I thought was interesting. I might take a similar point of view on our next essay- here! Oh darn, never mind."

Draco flipped through his own parchment before handing her one near the bottom of the pile. "Here, take it. I'm scared you might give yourself a paper cut."

"I am perfectly careful with my own stuff, thank you," she said taking the notes from Draco.

"Yes exactly," he said with sarcasm. "Which is why you need my notes right now."

"Oh, shush…" Hermione leaned in to steal a kiss from Draco's waiting lips, which he accepted somewhat unwillingly.

"Hermione," he said, looking about them in the library. They were situated near a back corner, and the murmurs of other studying students were the only indication they were not alone. "You know that isn't a good idea…"

"No one can see us, Draco. And you know I'm not trying to hide this-"

"I just- if other people see…"

"If they see, they see. It can't be the biggest gossip they've heard recently. I don't care about what they think."

Draco frowned. "No, the biggest news still seems to be the war. And what my part in it was."

"Stop it-"

"Can't you hear how they talk?" Draco couldn't stop his outburst. His heart sank as he saw how Hermione shrank away from him. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before standing up. The chair made a distinct screeching noise when he pushed it back from the table. "Maybe I'm just tired. You can keep those notes, okay? I'll see you later."

"Draco, are you-"

"It's nothing, Hermione. Just want to get some sleep before the potions practical tomorrow." He forced a smile to his lips. "This time, I'll beat you."

Hermione returned the smile more easily. "You wish. I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Draco nodded, and wound his way through the shelves to find the exit.

When Draco first arrived back at Hogwarts, he was caught off guard by the way the grounds had lost its magic. Not _that_ sort of magic, but the wonder and awe of a castle seen through the eyes of a child. He had asked Hermione if she saw the difference too - the fading of the rose glasses – maybe if somehow in the reconstruction they had put up the walls differently or misplaced some of the portraits. Something to explain away the sense of loss he experienced when he wandered the halls now. Even in the darkest depths of his sixth year he didn't remember this coldness.

Hermione, though, had just smiled and insisted that it was simply a sort of culture shock. He would get used to it soon. Of course it felt different, but wasn't he as excited as she was about the new possibilities of the restricted section of the library now that they were under different rules as eighth years? He didn't have the heart to counter her exultations of off-limits books. Instead, he followed her lead and dove full force into his studies.

At least a younger Draco had never idealized his classes, so when he lost his concentration or wanted to fling his quill at the professor it was nothing new.

It wasn't just that the light from the windows didn't hit the stairs quite like he remembered, or that the house elf made food tasted blander than it ought to. It was that it almost hurt to walk past that spot where he has last talked to Snape, and that he couldn't even go near the hallway where his parents had died. It wasn't a well-used area of the castle for him anyway, so it wasn't much trouble to avoid, but it made that much more of the castle off limits to him. He felt more like a frightened first year in the castle than ever.

"I can't believe Professor Slughorn _already_ gave us an exam!"

"What even _are_ bezoars…"

A loud conversation between first years jolted Draco out of his reverie. He realized, taking a look around him, that his feet weren't leading him back to his room in the eighth year tower, but down to the dungeons. It was only a couple more hallways before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, where the two younger students headed. Of course, he was still allowed to go in, he was still a part of the house. However, at this particular moment, all he wanted to do jump between his covers and fall asleep, and his bed lay far above him in the castle.

Draco stopped in his tracks, teetering on his feet unsure of what to do. The weight of his exhaustion pressed down on his shoulders, as he stood alone in the fire-lit corridor.

"You look a little too old to be lost."

Draco turned about in a little circle, but didn't see anyone near him. He raised his eyebrow in confusion.

"And a definitely too old to be that dimwitted. You call yourself a pureblood? You look like a mudblood on their first day of school. I'm on the wall, boy."

He found a mid sized portrait hanging on the wall a few steps to his right. It was of an auburn-haired witch of aristocratic disposition.

"I'm sorry, I was just... leaving," he told her, but the portrait sniffed like she wasn't impressed. She pursed her lips as she lifted a graceful almost translucent hand toward Draco - a movement made him think of his mother.

"You remind me of someone," she said.

He avoided watching her elegant movements. "I'm nobody."

"No Slytherin is nobody… you need to be _somebody_ to be sorted here. Now who do you remind me of…"

"Trust me," he said meeting her eye. "I'm nobody. I intend to stay nobody."

The corner of her mouth twitched, and she scratched her cheek lightly. "Now saying something like that makes me think the exact opposite."

Draco was tired, and he didn't want to engage with this nosy portrait any longer. He turned to leave just as some fourth or fifth years appeared in the hall making their way back to their common room.

They sneered when they saw Draco. The face was a familiar one to him, one he had worn for many years in the same halls.

"Hey, blood traitor," one called. "I wouldn't show your face around here if I were you." The other laughed as if his friend were being particularly witty.

"Blood traitor, hmm?" The portrait almost purred. "You _are_ someone, aren't you?"

Draco had enough. He strode off, taking long quick steps away from the intrigued painted woman. He shouldered his way past the leering boys, only barely keeping himself from cursing them.

"Ignoring your lineage won't make it go away, boy!" She called after his back, and her voice echoed off the walls around him.

* * *

Hermione and Draco weren't the only ones to come back for their make-up eighth year after the fall of Voldemort and his followers. It took a bit of convincing, but Hermione got Harry and Ron to agree to come as well, citing that even if the auror department was willing to wave the NEWTs for them, it didn't mean they didn't need to know the spells they would have learned.

As there wasn't room in the normal house dormitories to accommodate the extra year of students, all eighth years regardless of house were placed in one common tower, with one girls' dorm and one boys' dorm. Hermione was happy with the arrangement, but Draco was more than a little more than put off by his new roommates.

Seamus, Dean, and Neville, joined Harry and Ron from Gryffindor, while Draco was the lone Slytherin. Several other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs rounded out their room, which gave the boys very little privacy and the blonde was on edge almost constantly. While most of them ignored him completely, silently wondering as to why Draco had come back to Hogwarts at all, some decided to be very vocal about their hostility.

When Draco finally reached the tower and dragged his feet to his own bed, he didn't find the silence and comfort he was aching for.

"Fuckin' Death Eater," Seamus sneered at him as Draco dumped his books on the bed. "Daddy's funds run out?"

Draco tried to ignore them as best he could. They didn't know. They couldn't know… else he be placed inside cold prison walls instead of Hogwarts' stone ones.

"Nah, his mum is just tired of his ugly face at home," Dean added, looking pleased at the glare he received from his target. "Why doesn't he hang out with his Death Eater friends instead?"

"Because they're all dead," Seamus said, making a show of picking up his belongings to leave. Dean joined him. "Like they should be. No one to go crying home to now." He slammed the door on his way out of their shared room.

At least now it was quiet.

* * *

Draco made sure that Hermione kept her distance when they were around others. He didn't want her to be associated with the verbal daggers being thrown at him, and he cared a lot more about her than his own ego.

She was angry, but agreed to at least not look like they were dating in public. There were only stolen kisses on the way to classes and held hands under tables until Draco would let her closer.

"You will _not_ compromise my grades for your misguided sense of chivalry," Hermione had said when Draco had turned her away for another study session. "If I don't get to use those bloody lips of yours for other activities, you will at least make them useful to me for the transfiguration exam next week."

He couldn't say no to her downturned mouth and furrowed brow. And in those quiet hours with their books, he couldn't hear the whispers that floated around him wherever he went.

_"I hear he made a deal with the ministry…"_

_"The school must know about what his parents did… from what my dad wrote in his last letter I reckon this must be some sort of charity case…"_

Until Hermione apologized and left him for her bed when their studying session grew late, he didn't notice the stares from students around him, the whispers growing louder in his ears.

_"The Prophet never wrote about the others who went to Azakaban. You think they're covering something up?" _

_"Why isn't he locked up? I think the dementor's kiss would be perfect… he let those Death Eaters into the school…" _

_"I'd like to personally thank whatever witch or wizard gave him that scar."_

When he was alone, they were all he could hear.

* * *

_"So you can't stand what other people think of you?" McGonagall asked. _

_Draco still didn't want to look up, even with the urge he felt to hex her. _

_"You know, they'll understand, if you let them know what happened," she continued. "I know it isn't something you want to talk about, but I can at least assure you that nothing that happened during the war can put you in a compromising position with the ministry. The Order can take care of that." _

_The Order, of course. The Order can make everything better… through the sacrifices of others. _

_"It isn't what they say, or what they think," Draco said icily. "A lot of it is true, and I can avoid them most of the time. The problem is I can't get out of my own head." _

* * *

Hermione entered the eighth year common room and deposited her stack of parchments on the table. She was exhausted after finishing her ancient runes essay, and was glad to be back among her friends. She had searched the room for Draco's signature blonde hair, but she couldn't find it. She didn't worry too much, as he had promised he would meet her to go over their essays later that night, and he had never missed one of their study sessions.

Harry moved over on the couch to let Hermione sit. "Chocolate frog?" He offered.

"No thank you," she replied. "How are your essays going?"

"I don't take ancient runes, you know that." Harry said.

"Ron does though," she said pointedly, and looked at her friend across the table.

Ron looked at her sheepishly, and ducked his head. "I haven't exactly started…Can you help me out tonight?"

"You know I'm meeting with Draco to go over our papers. We _would_ go over yours as well, except that it isn't written yet."

"Please 'Mione?" he whined. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Why did you even take this class?"

"I thought it would be easier than arithmancy…" he said.

"You could have taken divination," Dean offered.

"But then Hermione wouldn't be able to help me…"

"Ron, you need to start doing these things on your own. We're _eighth years,_" Hermione scolded, grabbing a half-eaten frog from his hands.

Seamus sniggered. "I think I've been hearing that line since we were first years Hermione. I don't know if they'll ever listen."

"They will, once I can't do their jobs for them."

"Maybe Draco will be nicer. I know he got a better grade than you did on the last one, he can help me," Ron said, waving to someone toward the entrance. Hermione looked up to see Draco walking into the common room with a couple books under his arm. He nodded at her, indicating that he would be back out in a moment, and climbed the stairs to the boys' dorm.

"I seriously doubt your luck on that front," Hermione giggled. Seamus frowned.

"He's been talking in his sleep and waking the rest of us up every bloody night," he complained. "Maybe he _should_ help you since you can cite insomnia for reasons you couldn't finish that assignment."

Hermione turned to Harry and Ron, smile fading from her face. "You didn't tell me… is he alright?"

"Is _he_ alright? We are the ones suffering from his bloody nightmares-" Seamus responded, but Harry cut him off.

"He didn't want to worry you… I spoke to him once, but he made me promise."

"You did promise, thank you Harry." Hermione was startled as she heard Draco's cool voice from behind her. She jumped up and motioned for him to sit down with them, worry in her eyes.

"Draco, please tell me if you need-"

"Hermione…" Draco warned her. He didn't move to take the seat he was offered. "Whatever you're going to say to me right now can wait until we finish studying. Now, we can either go back to the library or you can ask your… _friends…_ to find somewhere else to fail their classes."

"Draco, I-"

"Now, Hermione."

"Don't fucking talk to her like that," Seamus snarled at him. "If I didn't trust Hermione's judgment, even if I think she's crazy for thinking she's friends with the likes of you, you'd already be in the hospital wing."

Draco narrowed his eyes, and gripped his wand firmly. "Keep imagining that you could lay a single spell on me, Finnigan." Hermione's heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. It was past the normal heated banter that she heard between Draco and some of the other students. It was only centimeters away from the monotonous, soulless voice she heard him speak with during the war. This was too much for the soft glowing atmosphere in the light of the fireplace. Hermione reached for his hand, and thankfully, he accepted the touch.

Harry noticed it too. "Draco, mate… we'll go so you can work on your essays, right?" Seamus protested, but Ron held him back.

Draco stayed stiff, but relented. "Fine."

_Hermione relaxed a fraction, and led Draco to a seat beside her. The rest of the Gryffindors stood up and headed to their dorm room, Ron dragging Seamus behind him so he wouldn't go back to continue the fight. _

* * *

Hermione got to the great hall early for lunch, and luckily found that Harry had already arrived and was sitting alone. She wanted to talk to him.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said as she sat down and grabbed a glass of pumpkin juice. "You alright?"

"Tell me," she demanded simply. Harry knew what she was talking about.

"Draco seemed serious when he asked me not to tell," he said. Hermione crossed her arms, unsatisfied with his answer.

"He isn't looking well, Harry. He won't open up to me like he did at the burrow… he's restless and won't come to meals, and he just gets angry sometimes. I need to be able to help him."

"Maybe he doesn't want help," Harry said. "You know how he is…"

"Harry. Do you know how many times you would be dead if I listened to you when told me you didn't want my help?" Hermione asked, angrily waving her drink at him. A bit of orange liquid splashed on the table.

Harry backed up slightly from the angry witch. "I understand that Hermione, but I feel like I've only just gained his trust and I want him to be able to talk to me like that. You don't see what it's like in the boys' dorm."

"No, I don't see what its like," Hermione said desperately. "I need him too, Harry. He's slipping away, and I can't- I can't do _anything_."

Harry just stared at her a moment, before saying very softly into his meal. "Names, Hermione. We hear names every night."

"Names?"

"Dozens of them. I couldn't figure out what they were at first, a lot of them I didn't recognize… but after he repeated them, every night. It sounds like he is willing himself to remember-"

Realization spread across Hermione's face. "No…"

"The last name is always Bellatrix, Hermione. I think they are all the people he's killed."

"No, he promised he would stop…" Hermione kept her voice low, suddenly hyperaware of the laughing kids and clinking of silverware around the two.

"I think a lot of promises have been broken lately," Harry said solemnly.

* * *

Draco kept up a routine of going down to the kitchens to ask the house elves for some leftovers to avoid the great hall since a string of disastrous encounters with younger members of his own house. He picked up food, noting the way Dobby still avoided him, before heading to a deserted part of the castle to eat in peace.

This time, he only had about 10 minutes of solitude before another student in the hall interrupted him with him. He tensed before he recognized Hermione coming around the corner.

"Oh, Hermione," he said. He took another bite of his meal. "I thought you were that third year Hufflepuff who comes by here sometimes. Smells a bit…"

Hermione wrinkled her nose, and looked around her.

"Right? You smell him too?"

"No," Hermione said, taking a seat on the stone beside him. "Your wards are up Draco, it's a bit suffocating. Do you do that all the time?"

Draco's cheeks darkened in embarrassment, and released the magic that pulsed around him. "Sorry, I don't notice when I do. I did it so often when I was- well when I was alone that whenever nobody is around me here I guess I'm always monitoring. Does it really feel that bad?"

"Only because I know how yours work," Hermione insisted. "Most people don't notice."

Draco nodded and went back to his food in silence. He offered some to Hermione, who declined, staring into the empty hall ahead of them.

"Draco, please will you talk to me."

"Not now, Hermione. Can I just… be with you right now? Sitting here, nobody else around. This is what I want. We can talk about my problems later."

Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder, and wove her fingers through his. Even though they had seen each other every day for the past month of school, it felt like she was further than she had been to him during the war.

"They aren't just your problems, Draco."

"Yes," Draco said firmly. "They are."

* * *

_"Dreamless sleep could help your nights," the headmistress suggested._

_"But… then I'm afraid I would forget…"_

_"Forgetting," she said "may be the best thing right now."_

_"I need to remember them. If I don't remember them, who will?" Draco explained, hitting his hand against McGonagall's desk in front of him. _

_"That isn't how it works, and you know it," the professor said sternly. _

_"As far as the ministry is concerned they never even existed. Bloody aurors removed all their records because who gives a fuck about Death Eaters, right?"_

_"War is complicated, Draco. If we want to move on from it, we must let go."_

_"We have to make sure we don't make the same mistakes twice-"_

_"And that," McGonagall said, "is exactly why you must move on."_

* * *

It was a Tuesday, and Draco was basking in the rare event of being the only one in the eighth year common room. With only the roar of the fire to keep him company, he was finally making some good headway in his anti-venom potions research.

He didn't realize he had put his detection wards back up. It was a habit of solitude he couldn't shake. It was a safety blanket, a constant ripple of magic that allowed him to concentrate on something other than movement in the world around him. But the inside of the castle was a very different one than the depths of forests and back alleyways of the months he was on the run.

When some boys returned to the common room together, the wards triggered all at once, violently ripping Draco from the potions text and flinging him back in time.

* * *

Hermione heard the commotion before she even approached the hidden entrance to their tower. She held her bag to her side, and ran the rest of the way shouting the password and leaping into the chaos. Spells were being thrown and blocked from multiple directions, and above all there was the yelling.

"All of you will be dead by morning if you continue to fight!" She could hear Draco's voice emotionless, dry and righteous.

Draco was in the center of a half-formed circle of eighth years. He was blocking and flicking with his wand, like it was effortless. With the rest of the boys holding back, he was single handedly fighting six of them at once. His eyes lacked the lighting Hermione had seen during their battles together, however. They glowed now instead with a sort of misty fog.

"He doesn't know where he is," Harry explained frantically to the others. "He thinks he's in the war, don't hurt him!"

"Why bloody not?" Seamus yelled, blocking another spell. "He might kill us, we're better off without him."

"NO!" Ron bellowed. "Don't touch him!"

"Keeping me for Bellatrix?" Draco sneered whipping his head around at Ron. His lip curled up like he was a growling wolf, poised for attack. He was slowly cornering the red headed boy, advancing wand at the ready. "So she can torture me more? I have endured more than you can _imagine_, but I don't think you can say the same."

Hermione didn't stop to think. She approached the circle before Draco could attack again, her heart at her throat, keeping her wand behind her back and out of sight. She tried to take his attention away from the now wide-eyed and quivering Ron.

"Draco," she said as calmly as she could manage. "Draco, it's me. Do you recognize me?"

He turned to her, keeping his wand hand moving around the circle ready for another attack. "Hermione…" he said slowly.

"Yes, Draco. It's me."

"You can't… Bella can't know about you. I can't think about you. Please, I can't." His eyes were flicking back and forth from her to the boys.

"Bellatrix is dead, Draco. You ended it. She won't come after me, or you anymore. You're here in Hogwarts with your friends now." As Hermione spoke, however, Draco's eyes slipped from her face, as if she were no longer there. Like she was a ghost, or maybe he was willing himself not to look at her.

"She wants to kill you… I'll get her, they'll tell me how. Where is she?" His voice turned to ice again, and a red jet sprang from his wand. It narrowly missed Dean's head, and cracked a table behind him.

"No, Draco…" Hermione took a few more steps toward him until she was almost within arm's reach. He wouldn't let her any closer, so she started talking to him again. "Draco, it is November. You're not running anymore, I'm really here. They're dead, all of them. You can stop fighting." When she got close enough to touch his shoulder. The physical contact proved to him she was real, and he allowed himself to look at her, _really _see her once more. As he processed her words, he dropped his wand to his side and took a step away from Hermione.

"Dead? Jessica… MacNair… Wilkes…" The names flowed easily from his lips, learned like a song. Hot heavy tears starting rolling down Draco's cheeks. On the left side of his face, they followed the scar like it was the path of a river. "I- I-" He looked around him again, finally seeing the students for who they were.

"You're home with us now," Hermione said, but as she attempted to close the distance between them, Draco raised his wand again, this time to himself.

"I'm next, aren't I?" He said looking around him wildly. He shoved his left arm out at her, brandishing his dark mark. "You see? What makes me special? All those Death Eaters I killed, I'm the same. I don't deserve life any more than they do. I deserve it a whole lot less if you think about it, really. I killed… I killed…" He choked on his tears and fell to his knees. Hermione rushed toward him and took his wand away. He let her take it.

"Listen," she said to him, aware that they still had an audience. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"What is today's date?"

"November 10th, 1998," he managed between aching breaths. "Hermione, I-"

"No, just answer my questions, Draco. What is the first ingredient in a sleeping drought?"

"Why?"

"You know it, Draco. Answer."

"L- Lavender."

"Correct. Now when was the second great giant war?"

"I never paid attention to Binns… something like 1874?"

"1865, close enough. Now, why did you kill?"

"Hermione…" It was painful for her to watch him, but she held him tight in her arms and urged him to continue. "Because I couldn't let them hurt me… hurt Teddy… hurt you. I had to make it stop."

"And you did, Draco. I'm safe because of you. We are _all_ safe because of you." She looked pointedly behind her at the shocked faces of her fellow students. The last comment was directed at them as much as to Draco.

"I was selfish, I was cruel, I-"

"Stop, Draco. You did the best you could, and you brought me out of a place to dark for me to bear…"

His whole body trembled as his hands rose to cover his face. "I'm hurting you now, Hermione. I can't stay here and do that to you. School is where you belong, but me? Maybe I should go home…" _Where?_ "Or, er… somewhere else. I'll find something-"

"No," Hermione said angrily. "Draco Malfoy, I love you. And if you dare leave me again I won't forgive you. I need you here."

"But you're not happy, Hermione" Draco stated. "You have the others, who are actually acting like friends. I can't. I'm just here. Existing. You don't need me." He wasn't crying anymore. His tear-streaked skin looked as if it were a mask, carefully reconstructed from shattered pieces of glass. An old form, meant to distort and deceive.

"War hurts us. We have to heal before we feel better."

"I don't think I will ever be happy."

"I know it feels like that Draco, but we weren't fighting for happy…" She paused, intertwining her fingers with his. "Do you remember what you were thinking about when you cast your first patronus?"

Draco nodded, unspeaking.

"Tell me."

"Some sort of future."

"And we still have that, don't we?"

* * *

_"How did Tonks do it?" Draco asked McGonagall. "She said she would always be there to talk with me, but she isn't. She can't tell me how to get over this, how to deal with all the lives…"_

_"There are others, Draco, who want to help you too. You won't feel better instantly. Not today, maybe not this week or this month. But you will start seeing glimmers of happiness, and it will start getting better. You need to let others help you do this." For the first time in their meeting, Draco lifted his grey eyes to his professor's. It was almost comfortable. _

_"I- I can still stay? At Hogwarts, I mean."_

_"I won't force you to," the Headmistress answered. "But these doors are always open to you. If you wish, I can also offer you a special NEWT exam during the summer, if you would like some time away."_

_"You don't think I'm… dangerous?" He eyed at her skeptically. _

_"No, Draco. No more than any of us."_

* * *

"How did it go?" Hermione asked when Draco stepped out of the Headmistress' office. She was leaning against a statue, small book dangling from her fingers.

"As well as to be expected. You waited the whole time?"

"Of course."

Hermione took his hand, and led them up the stairs. His feet obeyed the right path to the dorms now.

"You could have gone back… it's pretty late," Draco told her.

She squeezed his hand, and shook her head, loose curls bouncing along her shoulders. "Did I ever tell you the story of the man in the hole?"

Draco thought that sounded strange, but indicated to her to keep talking.

"Well, a man falls into a hole. It's too deep for him to conjure his way out of, too steep to climb out of. He cries for help, but nobody sees him. Finally, a healer walks by the top of his hole. 'Healer, healer!' he yells 'I'm stuck in this hole and I can't get out.' The healer stops, writes a potion on a piece of parchment, and throws it down into the hole. She then continues on her way. Next, a ministry official walks by the hole. 'Sir, sir!' the man cries again. 'I'm stuck in this hole and I can't get out!' The official copies an official decree on a piece of parchment, and throws it down into the hole before continuing on his way. Finally, a friend finds the man in the hole. 'Hey friend!' the man yells to her. 'I'm stuck in this hole, can you help me out?' The friend jumps into the hole with the man. 'Why did you jump in, are you crazy? Now we're both stuck down here.' She replies, 'Yes, but I've been down here before and I know the way out.'"

Draco's feet slowed and he worked his mouth, but was unable to find a response.

"Dean and Seamus want to apologize-"

"I don't need it," Draco said. Anger had dissipated from his voice, however it was still a quite strained.

"I know." Hermione chewed her bottom lip and studied him. "Will you come to lunch with me tomorrow?"

Draco thought for a moment before answering. "As long as Harry can keep an eye on Ron's appetite. I don't know how he bloody eats so much, it makes me nauseous."

Hermione relaxed and started leading Draco down the hall once more. "They'll be happy you want to eat with them."

"I never said _want_…"

Hermione simply threw a knowing smirk behind her, and in that moment, Draco thought he saw something like a glimmer. Although it may have just been fairy dust falling from the rafters.

* * *

A/N: Based off my favorite episode of the West Wing, _Noel_. (Unfortunately Yo-Yo Ma doesn't make a guest appearance at Hogwarts) I felt like it was a part of their story that needed to be told, but didn't fit into the story arc of Firebird. I've always been uncomfortable with happily ever after endings (although who doesn't love a good family epilogue, as I am of course guilty of writing) so I guess I'm just trying to get the best of both worlds by giving a glimpse of the in between time.


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